


Midnight Lover

by voxofthevoid



Series: Hungry Hearts [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Biting, Blood Drinking, Caretaking, Communication, Consensual Blood Drinking, Depression, Domestic Fluff, Dubious Morality, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Human Victor Nikiforov, Human/Vampire Relationship, Implied/Referenced Animal Death, Light Angst, M/M, Mild D/s, Mild S&M, Miscommunication, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Past Tense, Possessiveness, Predator/Prey Dynamics, Suicidal Ideation, Suicide Attempt, Unhealthy Relationships, Unreliable Narrator, Vampire Katsuki Yuuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 18:15:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 210,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11362935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voxofthevoid/pseuds/voxofthevoid
Summary: Viktor Nikiforov, figure skating god and human trainwreck, flies halfway across the world from the only home he's ever known in a last-ditch attempt to salvage his life. His demons follow him faithfully.Katsuki Yuuri, reticent vampire and trouble magnet, pulls a drowning man out of the ocean on a whim and winds up with an unconscious human celebrity in his house. He knows it's a mistake to keep him.Viktor wakes, Yuuri stays, and they get too attached too fast.In which Viktor is running from himself, and Yuuri is not anyone's savior.





	1. moonlight walking, i smell your softness

**Author's Note:**

> You might wonder during the course of this fic why Yuuri is the way he is. Be patient with me. All will be explained. That said, _note the tags._ Also, this fic takes place in early 2018 and Viktor’s 30. 
> 
> Warnings: Witnessed suicide attempt, some mild vomiting, some uncomfortable situations, referenced animal death (I’M SORRY) and also Yuuri 
> 
> A shout-out to my friend Sarina who listened to me ramble about this fic despite not knowing a thing about Yuri on Ice. Thanks, love.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri saves a drowning man and fails to resist temptation in more ways than one.

There was a man out on the beach.

Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t be noteworthy. Hasetsu’s ocean was gorgeous; sparkling sapphire blue as far as the eye could see, vast and welcoming. It had been almost two years and Yuuri had yet to tire of the view which was saying something since Yuuri got tired of most places within weeks at best.

Of course, he wasn’t the only one who felt that way. The beach was never really bustling even in tourist season but it was common sight to see all sorts of people – couples, loners, friends, families – on the shores, enjoying the water and the sun. Only a rare few ventured out into the parts near Yuuri’s place but it did happen now and then.

But all of that was during the day or even placid evenings.

It was currently midnight and even the moon was only barely peeking out from between the clouds. The water was dark and its vastness now seemed menacing rather than welcoming.

And yet, there was a man on the beach.

It was none of Yuuri’s business and he didn’t have any desire to make it so. He felt no nagging compulsion to approach the lonely silhouette sprawled across the sand and make conversation. He didn’t want to ask him why he was braving the night’s chill and staring at the waves lapping the shore and not at home with the people or pets that humans felt the need to surround themselves with.

Still, he kept watching.

There was something distantly appealing about the shadowed figure of the man. The silver sheen of his hair when the moon flashed its face for more than a few seconds, the unmoving lines of his body as he sat there on the sand with his arms wrapped around his knees – he was altogether a strange and compelling sight. Yuuri felt as if he was glimpsing something soft and private, and he liked it.

Or at least he did until he became actually aware of what he was thinking and ruined the spell with a snort, finally taking his eyes off the man.

It was a little pathetic that he was slipping into flights of fancy just because some oddball decided to haunt the beach at night. Maybe Yuuri was just that bored. Hasetsu, lovely though it was, didn’t provide much in the way of engagement, not to him.

He should never have let Minako talk him into a vacation.

He was about to walk away and leave the man to his business with one last glance at his shadowed form, only to find that there was no longer a shadowed form to glance at. Sometime during Yuuri’s idle self-reproach, the man had stood up and walked closer to the gentle waves.

The moon was fully out now. It probably wouldn’t last long but for the time being, Yuuri had a clear view of short silver hair and a lean body, hunched shoulders and clenched fists.

The man’s body language was so blatantly unhappy that Yuuri was only half-surprised when he started walking further into the water with a determination that screamed he had no intention of stopping.

Yuuri watched and waited.

Eventually, the man’s head disappeared under the waves.

The moon had gone into hiding again but Yuuri’s eyes didn’t need its light to see the violent way the water swirled where the man had gone under.

He was drowning. He probably wanted to drown.

It was none of Yuuri’s business.

But-

But.

He didn’t really make a conscious decision to save the man but before he knew it, he was on the beach and wading into the water, chasing after the plummeting body of a human who would probably curse Yuuri when – if – he woke up.

Curiosity had led Yuuri to making a lot of questionable choices in his long life. It ranged from things as harmless as eating seven hotdogs in a row (they inevitably had to come back up and looked far less appetizing when they did) to not-so-harmless acts like provoking a werewolf pack just to see if he could take them on (turned out that he could, just not without breaking most of the bones in his body).

Saving a human from suicide would comfortably sit somewhere in the middle of that list.

He hauled the man out of the water and lowered him into the sand, taking a moment to examine his wet skin and still chest. He looked a mess.

Yuuri still didn’t know why he was doing this but there was no going back now. He liked to commit to his decisions even when they were foolish or dangerous. Everyone had a flaw or ten.

And if the man was really displeased about surviving, Yuuri could always put him out of his misery in far more pleasant ways. Even after a near-drowning, the human looked delicious. Maybe Yuuri really should have approached him before he walked into the ocean.

His lips were chilled against Yuuri’s when he pressed their mouths together and pushed precious air into stubborn lungs. He pulled back and groped for the man’s wrist, found his pulse faint but there. There was hope then.

He breathed into his mouth again, one hand on the man’s chest. He could feel it move faintly with his ministrations. Yuuri hoped that meant he was doing this right. It wasn’t like he’d ever had to resuscitate dying humans before.

And when the man coughed and choked and threw up a mix of salt water and the night’s dinner, Yuuri decided that he was never, ever doing it again either.

“Hello?” he tried, turning the man to his side so that he could more easily get rid of whatever was in his airway. There was more water and bile. Charming.

“Wh-wha-”

More coughing. At least he was talking.

Yuuri gingerly held the man as he finished heaving and then turned him on to his back again, moving him away from the mess on the sand. He was breathing now, ragged and open-mouthed. His body was tense in Yuuri’s hold rather than the dead weight of before.

Now what?

The man hadn’t spoken again and his eyes were closed and Yuuri really didn’t know how to proceed from here so he just sat silently and watched, taking in the human’s appearance. The recent near-drowning had done his face no favors but despite that, it was easy to see that he was handsome. Sculpted jaw, sharp cheekbones, elegant nose…maybe the forehead was a little too big but even that probably looked better when his hair wasn’t hanging in limp, wet clumps about his face.

Speaking of hair, it really was silver and most definitely not from age. It was an uncommon feature and come to think of it, didn’t-

A rough gasp and the man’s eyes flew open, bright blue and wide with confusion as they bored into Yuuri.

Yuuri stared a little more intently into the man’s face, raking his eyes over his fine features in an attempt to match him to the hazy figure in his memory. It was pretty easy now that the human was no longer on the verge of death.

Silver hair. Handsome face. Blue eyes.

Viktor Nikiforov; figure-skating legend, Nishigori Yuuko’s idol, and a lovely specimen of a human being in general.

Yuuri hadn’t even known he was in Hasetsu. Neither had Yuuko or Yuuri would have heard about it.

“What…” Viktor whispered, his voice as lost as the look in his eyes. Yuuri couldn’t help but run a soothing hand over his brow, murmuring something nonsensical and comforting to the man as if he were a mere child. Viktor leaned into the touch with a sound that may have been a sob or a sigh.

His eyes fluttered closed and didn’t open again.

 

* * *

 

There was a human in his bed.

An unconscious, shivering, restless wreck of a human whom Yuuri didn’t have the faintest idea how to deal with. It had seemed sensible at the time to bring Viktor to his house. Sheer impulsiveness had carried Yuuri through the process of stripping off the man’s wet clothes, wiping him down with a warm cloth, and wrestling his uncooperative limbs into Yuuri’s own garments.

Now, he was tucked cozily into Yuuri’s bed where he lay in a tangled heap of human and fabric, stubbornly unaware but occasionally emitting distressed noises that left Yuuri a little clueless.

He was completely out of his depth here.

How did you take care of someone who’d just tried to drown himself and was probably on his merry to way to a nasty cold?

Yuuri knew that a responsible person would call an ambulance or personally take him to a hospital. A responsible person wouldn’t be watching a suffering man with awkward curiosity and a vague desire to help. A responsible person most certainly wouldn’t feel his canines ache with the telltale urge to sink into something soft and warm.

But Yuuri really wasn’t all that responsible. Strictly speaking, he wasn’t a person either.  

He had no intention of involving anyone else in this business and potentially drawing unwanted attention to himself. That still left the option of leaving Viktor at some hospital’s door or even arranging something anonymously. It wouldn’t be too much trouble and it wasn’t like Yuuri had anything to do with his life these days.

He could do a lot of things to help Viktor.

He just didn’t want to.

The same unknown thing that had made Yuuri dive after the faceless figure in the water now made him want to keep Viktor here where Yuuri could watch and wait for the confusion bundled in his chest to untangle into something he could deal with.

Meanwhile, he had another problem to deal with.

Even in this state, Viktor smelled good and Yuuri _wanted_.

Hunger wasn’t the problem - he had fed a couple of days ago, a soft-cheeked young man who’d curled his fingers around Yuuri’s shyly and opened up just as bashfully to the press of his teeth. But like many of his brethren, Yuuri was the kind to always long for more, forever craving that feeling of fullness that would come only when he filled himself with enough warm life to feel bloated and utterly sated.

He’d indulged in that too and could once again. Viktor was right here after all and Yuuri remembered thinking that he could show him more pleasurable ways to die.

Except, he didn’t want to kill Viktor. All his trouble to save him would be wasted. Besides, that nagging something that had been driving Yuuri towards all of this was still there and it didn’t want to see this human dead.

 _Yuuri_ didn’t want to see this human dead and wasn’t that odd?

He could feed without killing. He did it all the time. He generally preferred his food to be awake and semi-aware though, rather than passed out in his bed for all the wrong reasons.

Such a dilemma. Yuuri was doing this to himself as he always did. Minako had always called him his own worst enemy and she wasn’t wrong. It was less prevalent now that he was no longer painfully human but some things lingered.

In the end, Yuuri kept watching from the doorway as Viktor twisted and turned on the unfamiliar bed, making weak, wretched noises that tried in vain to tug at Yuuri’s heartstrings. He didn’t really have those anymore, which was a good thing since that would make it infinitely harder to observe and not act. He still wanted to leave his spot by the door and approach Viktor but that had less to do with any desire to comfort than with the way Viktor’s last movement pulled his throat taut, inviting more than Yuuri’s gaze.

There was a faint sting on his bottom lip. His fangs had lengthened.

It was almost like Yuuri’s body was trying to tell him something. Imagine that.

Viktor shifted again, dislodging most of the blankets covering his torso, and Yuuri was by his side before he could stop himself, one hand tugging the sheets back into place, the other hovering an inch above Viktor’s neck.

The moonlight from the windows washed him in shades of silver, turning the human’s fair skin into something gleaming and ethereal. The curve of his throat glistened with sweat, tempting beyond words.

Heat radiated from Viktor. His body lay before Yuuri, so very vulnerable. He could easily remember the chilled softness of Viktor’s lips and the gentle flush of his skin. Those acts had been impersonal, a necessity and nothing more.

What Yuuri was considering would be nothing of the sort.

It wasn’t a good idea. Yuuri had already messed this up enough.

A small sip wouldn’t hurt though, would it?

At some point, Yuuri’s hand had ceased hesitating and settled firmly on Viktor’s throat. His thumb stroked circles above his slightly racing pulse. Viktor slept on under the touch, quieting a little and burrowing further into the sheets. It was cute.

Yuuri tongued his teeth, felt them ache with need.

Ah, he was weak. Always had been.

There was something to be said for giving in, for the feeling of relief and ecstasy as you stopped fighting against the pull of your own instincts and _succumbed_. Yuuri shivered in anticipation as he lowered his nose to Viktor’s neck and breathed in deep, pulling in hungry lungfuls of the sweet scent that screamed preypreypreyprey-

A very delicious prey.

Viktor’s skin gave easily under his teeth, flesh parting under the pressure and blood welling up in hot drops. Yuuri lapped at the punctures with the tip of his tongue, moaning ever so faintly as the taste of healthy human flooded his palette. Viktor was silent now, head titled to the side and neck kept bared for Yuuri to take. And he did, gladly.

He closed his mouth around the swell of blood and sucked, a low growl rumbling his chest as heady copper exploded across his tongue and slid down his throat, filling him with a warmth that would be gone all too soon but was worth every moment of glorious transience.

Viktor tasted every bit as good as he smelled and Yuuri couldn’t help but suck a little harder, tongue pressing against the side of the shallow wounds to encourage more blood to seep out.

So good.

But he’d said just a sip. He’d already taken more.

Stop.

Yuuri wasn’t some fresh-fanged fledgling who didn’t know his victim’s limits. Viktor was not at all well. Stop. He had to _stop_.

He stopped.

It was not without effort but that was nothing new. Yuuri was sadly used to the vicious stab of discontent that shuddered through his very core as he sheathed his fangs and licked over the puncture marks, feeling them close under his tongue. For a moment, he just breathed against Viktor’s neck, closing his eyes and savoring the lingering taste of his lifeblood.

It was too little as always but it still made the night’s activities all seem worth it, including wiping vomit off Viktor’s face.

Viktor was still and silent now, not even breathing heavily. If the idea weren’t completely ludicrous, Yuuri would have thought that his feeding on Viktor actually calmed him down.

He straightened up and fussed a little with the blankets covering Viktor. He really was a handsome man.

Yuuri fled the room.

 

* * *

 

When morning came, Viktor was burning up.

Yuuri wasn’t surprised. It was April but the weather was cooler than it should be and Viktor had taken a midnight dip in the ocean. Of course he got sick.

Now what was Yuuri supposed to do about it?

He’d never had to nurse humans before and had no wish to do so now. In fact, he was teetering on the edge of ignoring his irrational fixation on this man and just dumping him at the nearest clinic. He’d be out of Yuuri’s hair and he could return to killing his mind with boredom in the sleepy shores of Hasetsu.

Yuuri’s life was the sort that allowed him to appreciate a year or ten of boredom but now, with Viktor a curious new addition that disrupted Yuuri’s dull routine, he found that he was loath to just return to the past year’s ennui. He’d come this far. He might as well cease this pointless whining – there wasn’t even anyone around to hear it – and surrender to what had been inevitable from the moment he pulled Viktor out of the water.

That said, Yuuri still had no idea how to deal with a sick human so he turned to the only thing he could. The internet, their lord and savior according to Phichit who had taken to modern technology with unsettling enthusiasm.

Cold remedies, cold medicine, fever-friendly food – sweet hell, humans were high maintenance.

It was after he got a faint idea of what to do that Yuuri realized something else. He couldn’t cook for Viktor. He could maybe make green tea without accidentally making it poisonous but anything more advanced was beyond him. It was one of the many side effects of not being able to properly taste anything other than human blood.  

That left him only one option.

Yu-topia Katsuki, the closest place that sold food.

It meant leaving Viktor unattended for a short time which Yuuri wasn’t keen to do. He’d spent the rest of last night pacing in the living room with an ear out for any noises from the bedroom while also often stopping to savor the lingering taste of Viktor’s blood on his tongue. Naturally, he was reluctant to leave. Yuuri got attached in strange ways.

He had to, though. But before that, he had to make sure that Viktor was settled and not in danger of accidentally killing himself while Yuuri was away.

He got a glass of water from the kitchen and crept into the bedroom, silently so as not to disturb the slumbering man on the bed. Viktor had been a mess early in the morning, not quite awake but also not asleep, mumbling and squirming with increasing distress. He’d opened his eyes at one point, only to stare right through Yuuri and attempt to get out of the bed. He’d fallen to the floor with a pained groan but not even that had been enough to make him return to his senses.

Yuuri had managed to coax from him enough words to know that he wanted to use the bathroom and then escorted him there, standing outside the door in case Viktor’s coordination failed him again.

It hadn’t and Yuuri had returned him to bed, watching bemusedly as Viktor fell on top of the sheets and passed out.

He was still out of it but the whole room felt more hot than usual from the heat of his fever. His visible skin was flushed an uncomfortable red and sweat trickled down the sides of his face.

He looked so fragile, like a single touch would break him, and smelled like heaven, tempting Yuuri into that touch.

Maybe Yuuri leaving the house would be the best for both of them.

Yuuri reluctantly shook Viktor awake, wary of his reaction. He needn’t have worried. Viktor just looked through Yuuri with glazed blue eyes and mechanically sipped the water he held to his lips before turning to his side and falling asleep yet again.

Well, then. Time to leave so that he could be back before the sun’s glare became too much. Sunlight wouldn’t kill him or, god forbid, make him glitter but it was unpleasant all the same, a constant ache along his skin. The morning and evening light was usually tolerable enough but noon time was decidedly painful. Yuuri had around two hours to finish up his business.

He’d also like to be back before Viktor became aware of his surroundings and started panicking as humans were wont to do. Sometimes, it was a little funny to watch but Yuuri had plans with Viktor that went beyond nibbling on his neck and sending him on his way with a thorough mindfuck. What exactly those plans were, he didn’t know, but he’d figure it out.

Minako and Phichit were always telling him to be _spontaneous_. This counted.

 

* * *

 

The young man at the small pharmacy gave Yuuri a warm smile to go along with the medicine. He gazed back blankly, seeing no point in charming a human so close to his residence. He always made a point of hunting farther away.

The owners of Yu-topia on the other hand got a smile because it was all but impossible not to be amused by the way they fawned over him. Yuuri liked them as much as he could like anyone. Vampires didn’t often deal with anything less than toxic love but there was something oddly charming about the two middle-aged women, polar opposites and blindingly in love despite of it, who ran the onsen and shared a name with Yuuri.

In his more fanciful moments, Yuuri wondered if Katsuki Chiyoko were somehow related to him, the descendant of that one sibling he was sure he had back when he was human. She reminded him of someone sometimes, evoking vague wisps of memory that slipped out of reach whenever he tried to hold on to them. A mother? A father? A brother? A sister?

A friend?

Yuuri had no idea. It bothered him at odd moments because there was something fundamentally unsettling about the games his own mind liked to play on him but ultimately, he knew it didn’t matter.

Chiyoko was Chiyoko, blank-faced and gruffly affectionate, and Yuuri’s past didn’t matter.

Her wife, Rei, was the one who handed the food over to Yuuri. He knew without looking that it was more than what he paid for. His attempt to give her more money was gently but firmly turned away with a few soft pats to the back of his hand and a wide smile that he couldn’t help but return more reservedly. He came here often for the hot springs but it was his first time ordering food. Yuuri didn’t need it no matter how often Rei commented on how he needed to fatten up a bit. Yuuri would have liked to fatten up too but it wasn’t his fault that he was turned during lean times with just enough flesh on his body to hide the bones. Vampirism did wonders for your health but it wasn’t a makeover.

“Take care of yourself, Yuuri-kun,” Rei told him, shooting a concerned glance at the food in his hands. Yuuri was quite sure she was judging him because who couldn’t make rice porridge these days? Yuuri, thing that went bump in the night and had dysfunctional taste buds, that’s who.

“I will, Rei-san,” he mumbled, managing another half-smile. “I think I’m coming down with something and wanted something mild.”

Was that too much information? No, probably not. Better it be known that Yuuri’s sick so people wouldn’t get any ideas. Hastesu was a small town and Yuuri was a familiar face. He was also just a little paranoid.

He managed to leave Yu-topia before Rei could do more than shake her head sadly at his utterly fake but hopefully convincing cough. He didn’t run home, there was no need for that. It was really more of a mild sprint.

Viktor was still asleep when Yuuri entered the bedroom but he’d once again abandoned peaceful slumber in favor of making a mess of the bed. Even from the doorway, Yuuri could see the pained grimace on his face. It was just as well that he was waking him then.

Easier said than done though. Viktor’s sleep may have been restless and loud but he was still clung to it with irritating persistence as Yuuri poked and prodded and finally just gave up all gentleness in favor of roughly shaking him awake. Bright blues blinked up at Yuuri, a little more cognizant than the prior times he’d seen them but still very confused.

Viktor whispered something, voice low and rough with sleep. Yuuri had no idea what he was saying but he could guess the language.

“I don’t speak Russian,” he replied in flat English. “Try English.”

Viktor blinked at him again and laboriously pushed himself into a sitting position. He was hunched over himself, his hair was grimy and clunky from salt water and no proper wash, and there were shadows staining the too-pale skin under his eyes. He looked more like a stereotypical vampire than Yuuri did and nothing at all like the embodiment of angelic grace he’d been in the few skating videos Yuuri had seen.

“Who…are you?” Viktor asked. It was a question that should have carried at least some weight. Curiosity, caution or even accusation, considering Viktor’s current situation. Instead, it was just blank and empty, much like Viktor’s eyes.

That was probably not good news. Then Yuuri remembered what had led him to Viktor in the first place and realized that the man was probably not in the best headspace.

Or it could be just the fever’s effects.

“Does it matter?” Yuuri asked, just to see Viktor’s reaction. There was none, only more of that blank stare. “Guess not. You’re sick. I’m taking care of you for no good reason. I have porridge.”

Still nothing. Was he catatonic? Was that possible?

Yuuri slowly reached out and took one of Viktor’s hands in his own. It was far too warm and trembling incessantly. His whole body was, not that Viktor seemed to notice. He didn’t even seem to notice Yuuri anymore even though his eyes were on him.

The internet didn’t say anything about this. Yuuri was, once again, lost on how to proceed.

He was also being very rudely reminded of why he stayed away from humans except to feed most of the time. Only, he’d been doing the exact opposite ever since he set foot in Hasetsu and yeah, he was definitely never taking another vacation.

Yuuri let go of Viktor’s hand and caught him by the shoulders, gently nudging him towards the headboard. Viktor, strange as he was acting, seemed open to suggestion and scooted a little on the bed so that he was leaning against the wood. He coughed suddenly, dry and wrecked, and by the time he was done, he looked like he’d crumple at the slightest breeze.

“Sorry,” Viktor whispered, voice even weaker than before. Why he wasted his breath on a needless apology, Yuuri didn’t know.

“It’s fine. I don’t think you can feed yourself. I’ll do it.”

Yuuri didn’t really want to do it. It would be awkward and intimate, two things Yuuri avoided like the plague with varying degrees of success. But he could do it. He’d saved Viktor and decided to keep him after all.

Rei’s porridge was still warm when he poured into a bowl – of course he had those, this house had come with a stocked kitchen – and took it to Viktor, who remained exactly as Yuuri had left him. He looked up as Yuuri entered the room with food in hand and if that was a flash of interest that appeared in his eyes, then it was gone as fast as it appeared.

Yuuri sat on the side of the bed, close enough that his thighs brushed against Viktor, and held out a small spoonful of porridge. Viktor stared at it blankly.

What was Yuuri doing again?

“Open up. Please.” Yuuri bit out, holding back a grimace. Alright, it was possible that this wasn’t a vampire-human thing. It was a Yuuri thing. He was shit with people, alive or undead. “Say _ah_?”

That at least got a reaction. Viktor tilted his head to the side and one corner of his mouth pulled up into something that wasn’t really a smile but also wasn’t not a smile. It was rather ridiculously cute, enough so that Yuuri could ignore that a feverish man half out of his mind was probably laughing at him.

He nudged Viktor’s lips with the spoon and finally, he opened his mouth, passively accepting the porridge. Yuuri watched as he chewed once and swallowed, frowning a little as he did. When it seemed like the food wasn’t going to immediately come back up, Yuuri held out another spoonful. This time, Viktor parted his lips without any prompting.

Though he must have been hungry, Viktor ate with little interest, mechanically consuming what Yuuri gave him. He was a little more eager to drink water, draining almost half a bottle before choking a little and prompting Yuuri into another session of awkward hovering.

In the end, Viktor ate a little over the half the bowl before shaking his head and turning away from Yuuri in clear rejection. Yuuri didn’t push him. He left Viktor to put away the rest of the porridge in the fridge – he’d been right, Rei had given him too much – to heat up later.

Viktor was in the bathroom when Yuuri returned to the bedroom, this time with cold medicine in hand. Yuuri had heard him go when he was in the kitchen and there didn’t seem to be any trouble so he just waited for the human to return. And he did soon after with water dripping from his bangs and an even brighter flush on his face. He stopped when he spotted Yuuri.

“Hello.”

“Hi?” Yuuri replied bemusedly.

“You helped me.”

It wasn’t a question so Yuuri just shrugged. There was something odd about the way Viktor was looking at Yuuri, as if he wasn’t all there. Yuuri guessed he wasn’t fully aware yet, still lost in the grip of the fever and maybe something else. That near drowning must have been quite a shock to his system.

No mortal ever dealt with their own death well. Yuuri would know.

They stood there like that, staring at each other, until Viktor swayed in place and Yuuri rushed to catch him. He moved too fast but it was likely that Viktor hadn’t noticed. Even if he had, he probably wouldn’t remember.

“Back to bed with you.”

He half-led, half-carried Viktor to the bed and sat him down before retrieving the medicine he’d dropped from the floor. For a moment, Viktor just frowned at the tablets on Yuuri’s palm but he did take them from him.

“What are these?”

“Medicine for your cold. I told you, didn’t I? You’re sick.”

“Sick?” There was something odd in Viktor’s tone when he repeated the word. His expression was shuttered but not enough to hide his unease. “Yes, I must be sick.”

The way he said that didn’t quite sit right with Yuuri but he couldn’t pinpoint why. And Viktor seemed to be in no state to tell him.

“Would you take them?” Yuuri tried to lower his voice into something that might pass as gentle. He didn’t think it really worked but Viktor obeyed anyway, popping the pills into his mouth and washing it down with water.

Yuuri couldn’t help but sigh in relief.

“Sleep now?” he asked, a little more hopefully than was probably polite. He couldn’t help it though. A passed out Viktor was easier to handle than an awake but not-so-aware one.

Thankfully, Viktor stretched out on the bed with a sigh of his own and even allowed Yuuri to cover him with blankets. Yuuri tucked them around Viktor, knowing they’d be dislodged soon enough, and drew back. Viktor was looking at him when he did. There was a brightness to his gaze now.

“You’re pretty.”

Yuuri froze, one hand halfway between their bodies where it had been reaching to take Viktor’s temperature.

“What.”

Viktor, though, didn’t deem it necessary to clarify his abrupt comment. His eyes had already closed. Yuuri knew from previous experience that he’d be deep asleep soon enough.

“What?” he asked again anyway, more to himself than the human.

It wasn’t that Yuuri didn’t know that people found him attractive. He depended extensively on that to feed himself. But it was still weird to hear it from a man who looked like a Greek god at his best, not to mention the state he was currently in.

Speaking of Greek gods though-

Viktor looked good.

It was rather sad that there was a disheveled mess of a man in Yuuri’s bed, in Yuuri’s clothes, flushed all over, and for all the wrong reasons.

Yuuri felt Viktor’s forehead as he’d meant to before and found it still hot. Humans always felt hot to Yuuri whose body temperature was well below theirs but he’d touched enough them to know what was normal. It would probably go down soon enough now that Viktor had both food and medicine in him.

He seemed sound asleep already, his breathing slow and deep. His face was turned to the side, exposing the line of his neck to Yuuri who suddenly found himself incapable of looking anywhere else.

He probably shouldn’t. He didn’t have to. Viktor was sick and needed his strength, and for some odd reason, Yuuri did want him to recover.

But he’d tasted so good last night.

Before he knew it, he had his teeth on Viktor’s neck, fangs sliding out and _in_ , not too deep but enough that some blood oozed out of the wounds and into Yuuri’s mouth, tantalizing every one of his senses as it trickled down his throat, perfect and not enough.

Never enough.

The fever made Viktor taste sweet.

He drew back despite every cell in his body screaming for the opposite, licking his lips until the last hint of sickly sweetness was gone.

Viktor slept on, blissfully unaware.

 

* * *

 

The second day with Viktor in his house was spent in much the same way, this time without a hasty trip to town. Viktor woke up every few hours to use the bathroom or just drink water. Each time, he stared at Yuuri without either recognition or curiosity, quietly accepting his help with a dull glaze to his eyes.

At least he hadn’t called him pretty again.

Yuuri had taken the next few days off from work, lying to Yuuko that he had the flu. His fake-sick voice seemed atrociously obvious to him but it was enough for Yuuko. It had been more troublesome to convince her that no, he didn’t need her to come take care of him. He didn’t even know why she offered when she had her hands full with a recuperating husband and three hyperactive nine year olds.

Some people were too kind. Yuuri didn’t really understand.

Then again, most would see what Yuuri was doing for Viktor as also kindness. He knew better.

Yuuri was sadly used to having plenty of free time to do absolutely nothing and watching over a slumbering Viktor was a welcome change. Even when Yuuri wasn’t in the room, he was attuned to the human’s presence. And when he was beside Viktor, he couldn’t help but observe each and every minutiae of the man’s sleep-addled behavior. His sleep was becoming increasingly peaceful as his temperature went down but in place of shifting about, he’d started muttering in his sleep. Most of it was raspy Russian that went right over Yuuri’s head but there was some English and French mixed in as well, total nonsense but entertaining all the same.

It kept Yuuri’s mind occupied and kept him from having to think about what he’d do once Viktor woke up properly.

Avoidance, his best friend. Phichit couldn’t compare.

Late afternoon found Yuuri perched on the edge of the bed, silently watching as Viktor once again slid into dreamland. He was curled on his side, pasty and messy and wholly vulnerable. It made the slant of his neck seem even more appealing to Yuuri but this time, he resisted. Viktor might not currently care about who Yuuri was or what he was doing but it could be a different matter if he woke up to someone munching on his neck. Yuuri had no intention of taking a risk that would cause him to either kill Viktor or send him on his way with erased memories.

And he wasn’t even hungry. No matter how nice Viktor smelled or how well Yuuri remembered the sweetness of his taste on-

This was becoming a problem.

He should leave.

Slightly reluctant, Yuuri made to stand, only to be stopped short by the arm that wound around his waist and the face that pressed itself to the small of his back. Yuuri sat, surprised and unsure, as Viktor nuzzled against his shirt and in a soft, breathy voice, said-

“Makka. Stay.”

Makka who?

Yuuri twisted, straining to look at the human who only tightened his grip on Yuuri. He could break out of it easily but the same strange interest that had made him make all these unwise decisions about Viktor made him stay still, silently turning the name around in his head.

Makka, huh? Who could that be? A parent? A sibling?

A lover?

Viktor, fast asleep and lightly snoring, seemed disinclined to answer.

That left Yuuri with only one option. The first try – ‘Makka Viktor Nikiforov’ – hit paydirt, yielding pages upon pages of results that made Yuuri’s mouth fall open in surprise.

Neither family not lover then. _Makkachin_ was Viktor’s dog.

Or rather, had been, since the first page itself had numerous titles mourning the recent passing of the animal. Yuuri had to marvel a bit at random people on the internet expressing such acute sorrow over something that should have been personal. He’d never owned any animals as they preferred to stay well away from his kind but he was quite fond of them, especially canines. He wouldn’t have been pleased to have his pet’s passing plastered all over the web this way but then again, it wasn’t like anyone on the internet asked permission to pry. Besides, Viktor’s feelings on the matter were a mystery to him. Maybe he appreciated the support.

Maybe Yuuri would find out one day.

He found himself checking the videos page which also boasted a great number of hits. The one at the top seemed to be a compilation titled _Cutest Makka and Vitya Moments!!!_ and before he could think better of it, Yuuri was clicking on it.

The title hadn’t lied.

By the time the video ended, Yuuri was grinning from ear to ear. Yes, Makkachin had been cute and so had his human. Together, they were a lethal combination.

It was a pity the dog had died.

Behind Yuuri, Viktor shifted, his other arm also coming to encircle Yuuri, both of them now loosely wrapped around his hips. He patted the back of one hand, an empty comfort to the smiling man in these videos who was also somehow the same person who’d tried to drown himself less than two days ago. Yuuri could see nothing of him in the barely lucid Viktor who sometimes haunted his bedroom either.

It was a fascinating change. Yuuri wanted to know all about it.

Imprisoned by Viktor’s hold and having nothing else to do, Yuuri continued watching more videos. One random click took him to one of Viktor’s figure skating routines rather than more dog videos. He’d seen a few of them thanks to Yuuko. After all, it had been Viktor’s resplendent beauty and otherworldly grace that had caused Yuuri to become interested enough to recognize him that night. But this particular video showed a figure that was stunningly different from what Yuuri was used to.

Viktor looked much younger, slimmer and slighter and with a long silver hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. In a fitted black costume with mesh cutouts and a half-skirt, Viktor embodied androgyny.

And when he moved, it was mesmerizing.

Yuuri wanted to reach through the screen and devour him.

Curbing the familiar impulse, he watched the video, again and again, followed by many others until the light outside faded into darkness and Viktor released him. Still, Yuuri stayed there, watching videos until his phone flashed a low battery warning. Then he stopped and turned away from the Viktor on his screen to the Viktor in his bed, silently cataloguing the drastic differences between the two.

Even out of touch as he was with human sensibilities, Yuuri could infer that there was something serious happening in this man’s head. Who was real – the one performing or the one drowning? Yuuri didn’t know, not yet.

But he wanted to.

Oh, how he wanted to.

“You might be dangerous to me, Viktor Nikiforov,” Yuuri told the sleeping man, wincing at the way his voice disturbed the silence of the room. Viktor, though, seemed unbothered.

One of his hands still lingered near Yuuri. Without thinking, he took it and lifted it to his lips, biting down on the wrist before he could second-guess himself. Viktor’s taste was already familiar and no less delicious for it. Yuuri savored it this time, aware in a distant way that it might be his last.

He didn’t take much and soon released Viktor’s hand with a sigh, pressing a close-lipped kiss to the fading puncture marks. On the bed, Viktor sighed sweetly and turned to his side, curling the fingers of his bitten hand to the sheets.

Yuuri watched, an unfamiliar mix of emotions in his chest, and then turned away.

He had to go to the beach and clear his head.

 

* * *

 

The night had gone well.

Viktor had slept through most of it and Yuuri had managed to not give in to his craving again.

In hindsight, it had maybe gone too well because if centuries of existence had taught Yuuri anything, it was that the universe loved to make things hard for him for no real reason. Werewolf packs after his head? Check. Unfortunate encounter with a murderous banshee? Check. Tripping down a cliff and losing a limb? Check. The list went on and on; a half-amusing, half-annoying index of problems both big and small in the immortal life of Katsuki Yuuri.

So when he heated up the last of the porridge and went to the bedroom, he should have been at least a little prepared.

He wasn’t.

Viktor wasn’t in bed which wasn’t too odd in itself. Instead, he was standing at the window with his back to Yuuri, arms wrapped around himself, and that – that was the first clue.

Yuuri had barely any time to process the sight when Viktor turned around, awake, very aware and very, _very_ confused.

“Who are you?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seem doomed to write a vampire AU for every fandom I take an interest in. Oops?
> 
> Sources:  
> http://thesurvivaldoctor.com/2012/07/06/cpr-and-drowning/  
> http://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/15107.php  
> https://allabout-japan.com/en/article/1555/  
> http://dennisamith.com/2016/02/01/the-one-about-medicine-and-drug-stores-in-japan/


	2. never so much blood pulled through my veins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor wakes up and is soon charmed by his eerie caretaker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter titles for this story are taken from the song “The Horror of Our Love” by Ludo. Don’t worry, Viktor and Yuuri’s love won’t be that demented. Probably. 
> 
> Should I apologize for the chapter length? I used to write shorter ones but my Yuri on Ice fics seem to release the chapter monster in me. Hope you guys don’t mind.
> 
> Also, my most sincere thanks to everyone who commented, kudoed, bookmarked and subscribed. It’s the most support I’ve ever received for a first chapter and I’m still stunned at the numbers.

Viktor woke from dreams deep and dark and uncomfortable to a room he’d never seen in his life.

He didn’t care, too used to waking up in unfamiliar rooms. Years and years at hotels for competitions and shows as athlete and coach both, the occasional ceiling of a familiar stranger never to be seen again – yes, Viktor was used to this. He was more concerned with the way he felt as if he’d died ten times over, suspiciously familiar to how he’d felt that one time he’d deemed it wise to drink half his body weight in vodka after an intense free skate.

Had he done something of the sort again? It was likely. After all, he’d been making some truly excellent decisions recently.

The room was small and cozy, with plain beige walls and minimal furniture. He was in a nice, fluffy bed with thick blankets tangled around his legs. There were windows on one wall, open and letting in the very light that had woken Viktor and was now making him wish he were blind.

It hurt. Everything hurt. His mouth tasted like something had crawled into it, died and got fossilized.

He was also slowly starting to realize that this wasn’t a hotel room and that made his head hurt even more. He was… he was in Japan, in Hasetsu. He’d been staying at a hotel and his room had been nothing like this place.

Had he went home with someone after one too many drinks?

Viktor found that hard to believe. Even his drunk self hadn’t been interested in anything of the sort for years now.

With a pitiful whimper that he tried to bite back in fear of alerting whoever lived in this place, Viktor pushed himself up into a sitting position. Every one of his muscles screamed at the movement. He could swear that even his bones ached. He stubbornly kept moving though, sliding off the bed slowly only to stumble from a sudden assault of vertigo.

He fell back down on the mattress, clutching his head with one hand. It seemed to pound against his fingers, aching and muddled.

Viktor tried to stand again, slower this time, and managed to remain on his feet without having the room spin around him. His body wasn’t too happy about it but he ignored that with the ease of practice.

What now though?

He could try to leave the room but that probably meant confronting the person who had brought him home last night. A glance down at himself showed that he was clad in clothes a little tight around the shoulders but otherwise fine and absolutely not his. He tried to remember putting them on but came up blank.

Instead of braving reality, Viktor approached the window, planning to close it so that he could wallow in comfortable darkness.

An unobstructed view of Hasetsu’s ocean greeted him, calm and blue and beautiful in the morning light–

(–dark and menacing waters, beckoning, and himself answering; greedy waves lapping at his heels, his knees, his thighs, his chest, his–)

The door opened behind him and Viktor whipped around, window forgotten and heart racing, to stare wild-eyed at the intruder.

It was a guy, young and Japanese, with a tray in one hand.

Viktor hadn’t gone home with this man after a night of drunken debauchery.

Viktor had – he had – 

No. Focus.

“Who are you?”

The man’s eyes widened almost comically, mouth gaping open in surprise, before his face composed itself into something smooth and unreadable. Viktor would give a limb to be able to do the same but the memory that had abruptly resurfaced still lingered in the back of his eyelids, threatening and so very unwelcome.

“I’m Yuuri, with two ‘ _u’_ s.” The man – Yuuri with two ‘u’s, not like the only Yuri Viktor knew – took a careful step into the room and closed the door behind him. “And you’re in my house.”

 _And your clothes_ , Viktor thought a little hysterically before clamping down on the panic, drawing it into a tight little ball inside of himself. Not now. He just had to talk to Yuuri. Yuuri knew English and Viktor didn’t have to try and deal with this in mangled Japanese. It was fine. Everything was fine.

(Nothing was fine.)

“Why am I here?” Viktor asked and then froze, fingers curling into the edges of his borrowed shirt. Wrong question. He shouldn’t have–

“I pulled you out of the ocean and brought you here,” Yuuri replied mildly as though the words didn’t have the power to bring Viktor’s whole world crashing down. As though they already hadn’t.

 _Why?_ he wanted to ask. _Why would you do that?_

But that meant talking about it, addressing it as something that had happened, something he had _done,_ and he couldn’t – Viktor wasn’t –

Yuuri spoke again before Viktor could stutter out anything halfway coherent.

“I take it you don’t remember me? Not surprising. You’ve been pretty out of it these last couple of days.”

Viktor eagerly latched onto that last part; they implied something unpleasant but he was in no state to be picky.

“Days? How long have I been here?”

“Two days, give or take a few hours. You were sick and acting oddly whenever you woke up. I assume you remember none of that?”

Viktor shook his head numbly, reeling. Acting oddly? For Viktor, that usually consisted of stripping and hanging off the nearest breathing creature but that was when he was drunk, not sick enough that he blacked out. What had he done? Was it even important? And wait, did that mean–

“You took care of me?”

Yuuri gave him a look that made it clear what he thought of that question.

“Should I not have?” he asked and Viktor swallowed the resounding _Yes_ that wanted to slip past his lips.

Something in the way Yuuri’s eyes narrowed made him think that he heard the response anyway. Viktor looked down at his feet, ashamed and angry and just so confused.

He didn’t know what to do, what to say, how to act. He had come to Hasetsu so that none of that would be a problem.

To his shock, the next words out of Yuuri’s mouth had nothing to do with the incident.

“I brought you food. You should eat it and take some medicine. And maybe, uh, sit down before you fall over? No offense but you’re really pale, Viktor.”

Viktor looked up so suddenly that he gave himself vertigo _again_ and had to stumble the short distance to the bed so that he actually didn’t fall down. Yuuri approached him slowly as if afraid to spook him. The tray in his hand had a bowl and a bottle of water on it. He set it down on the bed beside Viktor and offered him the water.

He hadn’t even realized it but the moment the first cool drops touched his parched tongue, the intensity of his thirst made itself known and Viktor found himself guzzling down the water as if it would vanish the next second.

He didn’t choke, miraculously enough, and drained half the bottle before lowering it to find Yuuri gazing at him with what was most definitely amusement.

“Sorry,” Viktor muttered, embarrassed and trying hard not to show it. He felt really out of his depth here. It was ironic in a way. Interacting with others and charming them had always been his forte but look at him now, fumbling in the presence of an absolute stranger and making everything awkward. “I – sorry.”

“It’s fine, Viktor. I can only imagine how confused you are. But please do eat. Would you like me to draw a bath for you?”

He tried to sniff himself as subtly as possible – and failed about as badly as Yuuri did at hiding his smile – and found that he actually did stink something fierce. He could even feel the grime coating his body now that he was paying attention to more than just the pain in his muscles.

A bath sounded divine in more ways than one.

“I don’t want to trouble you.” The _more than I already have_ remained unsaid. But Yuuri was having none of it.

“I offered, yes? It’s no trouble. I’ll prepare it while you eat. There are clothes in the closet, feel free to take anything that would fit you.”

And then he was gone with a final, placid smile. Viktor stared after him a little dazedly for a few seconds before picking up the bowl of what looked like porridge. He wasn’t hungry per se but there was an unpleasant hollow feeling in his belly.

Slowly, Viktor started to eat.

He barely tasted the food and it was more than a little gross to eat without brushing his teeth first but he didn’t have much confidence that his legs would hold him if he tried to stand again. Not to mention that he had no clue where the bathroom was. There were only two doors in the bedroom, one the entrance and the other presumably the closet’s.

By the time Yuuri returned, Viktor had finished most of the porridge and was idly poking at the last of it, wondering whether it was worth it to force it down. Yuuri took one look at him and whisked the bowl away, briskly walking out with it and the tray.

Viktor knew that he should get up and go bathe but he found himself unable to move or do anything other than sit in a stranger’s bed in a stranger’s room and stare at his hands. His fingers were thinner that they should be. Lilia wouldn’t approve.

What the hell did it even matter?

Yuuri returned again but Viktor didn’t look up until a palm appeared in his line of vision with a small pill on it.

“Cold medicine. I’ve been making you take them the last two days. You’re clearly better but I’m not sure if you’re fully recovered yet. Mind if I check your temperature?”

Viktor didn’t give permission but he also didn’t turn away when Yuuri’s other hand slowly extended towards his face. Then the back of it firmly molded itself to Viktor’s forehead, cool and soft, and a helplessly relieved sigh escaped him. Viktor didn’t even have the energy to feel embarrassed as he leaned into the touch, chasing the blissful chill of Yuuri’s skin. He hadn’t even realized he was so hot.

“It’s lower but not normal yet,” Yuuri murmured. Viktor opened his eyes – when had he closed them? – to find the other man gazing down at him with what might have been a fond smile.

For some reason, it made him blush. The side of his neck tingled oddly.

“Do you not want the medicine?” Yuuri asked, seemingly unconcerned that Viktor was staring at him like a fool. “I can show you the bottle if you don’t trust me. There’s one that’s still sealed.”

That snapped Viktor out his silent spell and he hurried to shake his head, years of ingrained responses pushing him into action.

“N-no, it’s not that. Sorry, I’m still a little…”

For all his fluency in three whole languages, Viktor couldn’t find a single word in that moment that would encapsulate how he felt. Maybe there wasn’t one. It actually seemed a little ridiculous that mere language could give expression to the wild, churning mess his emotions had become.

He took the pill from Yuuri and, after only a moment of hesitation, gulped it down, washing away the taste with the water that Yuuri handed him. It probably wasn’t wise to trust a man he’d met less than an hour ago but Viktor had apparently been at Yuuri’s mercy for days. No point in being paranoid now.

“The bath is ready. Bathroom’s down the hall, you can’t miss it.” Yuuri stepped back from Viktor, still smiling a little. Viktor was surprised to find that he already missed the closeness. How long had it been since someone touched him? Since he touched someone?

“Thank you,” he said because it was the only thing he could say. He didn’t know how much he meant it but didn’t want to think about that just yet.

“You’re welcome, Viktor. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

And then he was gone once more.

 

~

 

As warm, scented water soothed his aching muscles and seeped into his pores, Viktor decided that he very sincerely meant thanking Yuuri.

This was heaven. He could die like this.

Oh.

He shifted in the bathtub, water sloshing at his chest and he didn’t have to try hard at all to remember something similar and recent, in a dark beach instead of a lit bathroom, the water cool instead of hot, the burn down his sinus, lungs pulling–

 _Stop_.

Viktor slid down so that only his head was above the tub and very deliberately tried to think of nothing. He’d had lots of practice doing that and it usually worked when he wanted but this time, it didn’t. Instead, Viktor found his mind wandering to his enigmatic host.

Yuuri. Viktor knew nothing about him, not even whether Yuuri was his given name or family name. He didn’t know why he had helped – and was still helping – Viktor. His smile had been kind but his eyes had been unreadable the few times Viktor made himself look at them. They were nice eyes though, large and brown. His face was nice too, soft and round and crowned by an artful mess of dark hair. Very, very nice.

Once, Viktor would have been all over him.

But it had been so long since Viktor had that kind of interest in anyone. Even so, he couldn’t help but wish that he really had gotten drunk and followed Yuuri home one night and that their meeting had been fun and sexy instead of…this.

His neck tingled again, an odd sensation that felt almost like someone had dragged the tip of a feather across the skin there. He touched the spot with a finger and the tingling vanished instantly. But he felt something still, not physical but something nagging at his mind, some wisp of a memory that he reached and reached for, only to have it disperse like smoke into the edges of his mind.

There was a knock on the door and the sudden sound made Viktor yelp and start badly enough to spill water all over the floor. Yuuri’s muffled voice followed the sound.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but you’ve been in there so long, I was starting to worry. Are you alright, Viktor?”

It was sweet of Yuuri to check in and not make the obvious joke. Viktor felt a smile spread across his lips, unusually genuine and undeniably happy. Their time together so far had been so short but he knew he was already well on his way to liking Yuuri despite everything. He even liked the way Yuuri said his name, almost perfect except for the way he rolled the _r_. It was different from the way he was used to hearing it and also different from how the few others he’d talked to in Hasetsu pronounced it.

It was a little cute and–

Wait.

Viktor had never told Yuuri his name.

The smile slipped off his face as if it had never been there.

A little desperately, he tried to rewind everything that had happened since he woke up. Things had been hazy at that start but he was certain he had not offered his name when Yuuri gave him his. Instead, Yuuri had just started calling him Viktor and he had never noticed the oddity.

How had Yuuri known? Viktor knew he’d had no possessions on him, not even his phone, that night. There was nothing that Yuuri could have used to deduce his identity.

There was only one possible explanation and even the thought of it made something inside Viktor _wither_.

There was another knock, louder, but Yuuri’s voice was calm when he spoke again.

“Viktor? Please answer. I’ll have to break down the door if you don’t. I need to know that you’re safe.”

“Don’t!” Viktor shouted, scrambling to stand. “I’ll be right out.”

Yuuri didn’t answer but there was no more knocking. Viktor dried perfunctorily and pulled on the clothes he’d taken from Yuuri’s closet, an oversized T-shirt and a pair of worn sweatpants that swathed his body comfortably.

If only he could feel so comfortable inside.

Yuuri wasn’t in the hall when Viktor stepped out. He wasn’t in the bedroom either so Viktor kept going until he crossed the living room and found the man in what seemed to be the kitchen slash dining room, fussing over the stove with his back to Viktor.

“Sorry,” Yuuri said before Viktor could force his tongue to work. He must have heard Viktor come in. “I didn’t mean to bother you but it’s just that you’ve been unwell and I was worried you’d passed out again.”

Any other time, Viktor would be interested in that last bit but now, all he could do was blurt out a hasty, nervous question.

“How do you know my name?”

Yuuri paused and started to turn around. Viktor felt as if he would fly apart at the seams any second.

“You’re Viktor Nikiforov,” Yuuri told him, one dark eyebrow raised. “Your identity is hardly a secret. After all, you’re a public figure.”

Viktor wanted to laugh and laugh and choke on it because _of course_ Yuuri knew that.

Viktor Nikiforov. Russia’s Pride. Living Legend. God of Figure Skating. A million other increasingly ridiculous titles that made him feel like a prized figurine on a collector’s shelf.

“You’re a fan then.”

Viktor cringed at the accusation in his voice. The resignation in his heart was even worse because he knew – he _did_ – that Yuuri being a fan shouldn’t change anything about what he did for Viktor but all the same, where he had been starting to tentatively want to get closer to Yuuri, he now wanted to just leave as soon as possible.

He couldn’t do this.

And then, Yuuri laughed.

It was brief, more of a chuckle than belly-deep laughter, but the mirth transformed Yuuri’s face in ways that made Viktor’s breath catch, made him helpless to do anything but stand and watch. He was–

Beautiful.

“Viktor, I only found out about your existence mere weeks ago when the manager of the local ice rink showed me your videos. The most I know of figure skating is that it involves the unwise combination of slippery ice and knife shoes. But sure, call me a fan.”

The heavy, poisonous weight inside him disappeared so quickly that it left him dizzy. It was replaced almost instantly by sheer mortification.

“Oh, Yuuri, I am so sorry! You must think I’m so conceited.”

To his confusion, Yuuri laughed again, properly this time and Viktor, despite his acute embarrassment, wanted to soak his entire being in that sound.

“It’s fine, Viktor. It’s a logical conclusion to jump to. Familiar waters and all. Then again, you didn’t seem too happy at the prospect.”

“No, no, I was just surprised.” Viktor shaped his mouth into a smile that hurt, the action that was once so familiar now rusty from lack of use. He’d appreciated these last few weeks of not having put up a cheerful front even if that only meant he was free to suffocate in his misery.

Rather than accepting his words or even laughing it off, Yuuri just frowned, peering at Viktor through narrowed eyes with an intensity that left him fundamentally unsettled. It was almost as if he could see through Viktor’s bullshit which, as far as he knew, was a skill no one possessed. Well, Lilia could but she could see through anyone and anything with those hawk eyes of hers and thus didn’t count.

Yuuri said nothing more though and just waved Viktor over to sit in one of the chairs around a small, rectangular table that could seat four people at most. Viktor sat and Yuuri turned back to his stove.

“I did watch some of your videos though,” Yuuri told him after a beat of silence. Viktor tensed, hating that he did. Yuuri continued speaking. “I don’t care about figure skating or your titles. No offense. But I find the way you move beautiful and after Yuuko showed me one clip, I watched a few on my own. Yuuko’s the ice rink manager I mentioned. She’s a big fan.”

Viktor had known that Hastesu had a rink but he had stayed clear of it. Now he was doubly determined to do so.

Still, part of what Yuuri said made his insides twist pleasantly. He hoped Yuuri had seen some of the older videos from back when Viktor felt…whole.

“Thank you. I’m flattered you think so.”

Yuuri finally turned around, a cup of something in his hand.

“Are you?”

“I – yes?”

Yuuri didn’t smile but Viktor thought something in his shuttered gaze softened a bit.

“That’s good then. Now, drink this. It’s green tea and good for you, especially when you’re sick.”

Viktor hesitantly took the cup from Yuuri, finding it hot and filled with pale green tea. He took a careful sip. The taste didn’t do much for him but the hot liquid felt heavenly sliding down his throat.

“Thank you,” he told Yuuri with a small smile that sat awkwardly but sincerely on his face and went back to sipping the tea. His eyes remained of their own volition on Yuuri who had taken the chair opposite Viktor. He wasn’t drinking, just returning Viktor’s scrutiny with a curious expression.

“Are you really this trusting?” Yuuri asked once Viktor had drank about half the tea. “For all you know, the tea could be drugged. You were the same way with the medicine earlier.”

Viktor made a point of draining the rest of his tea.

He set down the cup with a gentle thud and sighed contently, obviously.

Yuuri’s eyebrows threatened to disappear into his hair.

“I’ve been at your mercy for, what, two days now? You yourself admitted that I’ve been out of it for most of that time. If you wanted to drug me, you could have done it then and I’d have been helpless to resist. What’s the point of doing it now? You sav – took care of me. You’re still doing it. You deserve gratitude, not suspicion.”

Viktor still didn’t know how much of that deserved gratitude he felt like giving but one thing was for sure. He wasn’t actually mad at Yuuri for doing what he did.

“You sound like you’ve thought a lot about this. Is that what you were doing in the bath?”

Viktor grimaced and tried very hard not to think of what he had been actually considering in the bath.

“Ah, no. I just came up with most of that. Before, I just – I guess I just trusted you. You seem trustworthy.”

That wasn’t untrue. Yuuri had a sweet, disarming face and a personality to go with it. Something in his eyes, though, was different. Viktor found him a little fascinating and a lot likeable.

And he liked it – being able to feel things again, if only for a brief time.

“I’m glad you think so,” Yuuri told him with a small smile. “More tea?”

“Yes, please. Aren’t you having any?”

“Tea doesn’t agree with me,” Yuuri told him as he refilled Viktor’s cup. “A lot of things don’t. I’m a picky eater. It’s one of the few things I can make though.”

Viktor was already swallowing another mouthful when realization hit him. He looked at Yuuri with wonder.

“You mean you made this just for me?”

Yuuri seemed to find his reaction amusing but Viktor couldn’t even take offence.

“Of course. I want to take care of you even though I’m not too good at it. I can’t do much cooking though. The porridge was from Yu-topia. Have you been there?”

Viktor had been. It was a nice place, warm and friendly, and the hot springs were divine. He’d considered cancelling his hotel reservation and booking a room there before the very atmosphere that made it so welcoming made him reconsider.

Yuuri was warm and welcoming too. Viktor wanted to stay here too.

Of course, he couldn’t.

“Thank you,” he whispered, a little overwhelmed. “For being so good to me. I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”

And then he’d be back where he started.

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

Viktor stared at Yuuri in shock. Yuuri just shrugged, something complicated twisting his face for an instant before it disappeared.

“You haven’t really recovered. The worst of the fever may be over but it’s not fully gone. Considering that no one’s been looking for you in Hasetsu, I assume you’re here alone?”

Viktor nodded, still starting at Yuuri, now with bewilderment rather than surprise. Was Yuuri getting at what Viktor thought he was getting at? But why? Why would he willingly trouble himself with Viktor even more?

“Then you have no one to take care of you. I don’t mind doing it. If you’re willing to trust me, then stay.”

“I don’t – I don’t understand, Yuuri. Why would you do that for someone you don’t even know? I’m messing up your life already, aren’t I?” And then a thought occurred to him, sudden and shocking , not even leaving him time to think about the implications before it tumbled from his lips. “Actually, why did you try and nurse me at all? You could’ve just called an ambulance and let them deal with me.”

The idea of that happening made him cringe but it would have made perfect sense from Yuuri’s perspective.

“Oh, I thought about it,” Yuuri told him, nonchalant, with a smile that was almost sly. “But really, I didn’t think you needed it. And tell me, Viktor, would you have wanted it? If I’d handed you off to them, how long would it have taken until the world knew of what happened?”

There were a lot of things that Yuuri left unsaid. Viktor didn’t need to hear them to put together a full picture of what would have happened. Viktor was a foreigner here. His emergency contact was Yakov. Figure skating was big in Japan.

Maybe it all would have remained discreet.

Most probably, it wouldn’t have.

Even imagining it made Viktor want to curl into a ball and scream.

“ _No_ ,” he finally said, empathic and desperate. Yuuri just looked at him. “But that’s for my sake, not yours. It still would have been better for you if you had – mmph!”

Viktor sat stunned as Yuuri effortlessly hushed him with a single finger delicately placed against his mouth. He was leaning across the table, his face very near Viktor’s. Up close, he could see specks of red in Yuuri’s eyes, giving the brown a burgundy tinge.

Viktor swallowed hard.

“You seem to be well on your way to painting me as some kind of noble, selfless hero, Viktor Nikiforov. Don’t. I’m not as nice as you think I am. Do you want to know why I saved you?”

Slowly, with his lips still held captive under Yuuri’s finger, Viktor nodded.

Yuuri’s gaze went heavy and half-lidded, piercing straight through to Viktor.

“Because I didn’t want to see someone so beautiful perish. Selfish, isn’t it?”

There was a part of Viktor that wanted to be furious at the response. Because it _was_ selfish. But fury was too distant an emotion when faced with Yuuri’s eyes boring into Viktor as if they wanted to reach down and pull out his soul.

“Yes,” he breathed instead. Yuuri’s finger drew away, dragging along his bottom lip as it did. “Yes, it’s selfish.”

Yuuri smiled, delighted.

“Are you angry?”

“I want to be.”

“That’s not a yes.”

“No.” A shuddering breath and then, “It’s not. I don’t know why.”

Yuuri pulled back and Viktor could breathe easily again, even as a part of him mourned the distance.

“I don’t know why either, Viktor. I’m not acting like myself.”

“Oh, you mean you don’t regularly entrap handsome men with your wiles and then have your way with them?”

The words were out of his mouth before Viktor could stop them, a joke and yet not, and his face was on fire as they lingered in the air, leaving a too-loud silence in their wake.

Viktor and Yuuri stared at each other.

He waited for Yuuri to laugh it off or deny that he had such plans or even take offense at the weird joke.

Yuuri did none of that.

Instead he leaned his cheek on one palm and raked his eyes over what was visible of Viktor with an expression of blatant interest.

“Hmm, no,” he said at least, mouth slanting into a crooked grin. “You’re the first.”

Oh. Um.

His face was still hot. He couldn’t believe he’d said that or that Yuuri had responded in kind. Despite everything, he felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips.

“I’m honored then,” Viktor replied. He even meant it, all confusion aside.

He had no idea what he was doing or why he was doing it but Yuuri…Yuuri made him feel in ways that had been lost to him for years. He wanted to hold on to that, desperately.

Yuuri seemed pleased by the answer and for an instant, Viktor was tempted to ask if Yuuri really was interested in him that way. It seemed obvious enough and he knew what he looked like but Yuuri was beautiful too and he could use the confirmation.

He opened his mouth and–

Yawned. Loudly.

His face was going to be permanently flushed at this rate. Viktor wasn’t even the kind to blush easily but here he was, all red and tender.

“Uh…sorry.”

Yuuri looked very much like he wanted to burst into laughter but was holding back to spare the tattered remains of Viktor’s dignity. He appreciated it.

“Go sleep,” Yuuri told him gently. “I’ll go get more food. Would you like something more substantial than porridge?”

Viktor tried to think of what he wanted to eat, only to find the very thought of food nauseating.

“Not really. Maybe soup. I had that back home when I was sick.”

“Alright. Whatever you want.”

“Wait, the money! I don’t have my wallet with me. I–”

“No, it’s okay. You can pay me back later, once you’re able to stay upright for more than ten minutes. Now please go rest before you pass out on the table.”

Viktor stood on shaky legs, a little uncomfortable at the lengths Yuuri was going for him but at the same time feeling so _cared for_. It was altogether strange but he didn’t have the energy to not like it.

“Thank you, Yuuri,” he whispered, eyes locked on the other’s. He may not be able to thank for Yuuri for that one thing he did but he could show gratitude for all the rest.

“It’s my pleasure, Viktor.”

Viktor almost believed him.

 

~

 

When Viktor woke again, it was dark outside.

For several seconds, he was disoriented, blinking in confusion at the plain walls of the bedroom. Then he remembered in a dizzying rush – the ocean, Yuuri, the bath, Yuuri, tea, _Yuuri_ – and almost fell of the bed in his haste to get up.

There were sounds from the living room and Viktor found Yuuri in there, curled up on the couch and starring intently at his phone which was the source of the sounds. It stopped the instant Viktor stepped past the doorway.

“Sleeping beauty awakens,” Yuuri quipped without looking up and Viktor couldn’t help but roll his eyes, the action juvenile but strangely satisfying.

“Hardly original.”

“I’m afraid I’m a boring old man, Viktor.”

“Boring’s debatable but old? Certainly not. If you’re old, then I’m ancient.”

“Ah, that would explain the white hair,” Yuuri put away his phone and grinned up at Viktor who found himself smiling back, wide and genuine. It felt good.

“It’s silver, Yuuri,” Viktor said mildly, tossing his bangs playfully. It was soft and smooth once again rather than the messy lump it had been in the morning but Viktor didn’t need a mirror to know it had lost some of its old shine. His own fault of course but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“How are you feeling?” Yuuri asked, smile gone and face serious as he looked Viktor over critically. “You skipped lunch so you must be tired.”

“I’m okay.” Physically, he was more or less okay. “Tired, yes, but much better than how I felt in the morning. The pain’s way more manageable. And I actually feel a little hungry so that must be good?”

“It is. I tried to wake you at noon but you were dead to the world. I didn’t want to force you awake again so I just let it be. Your body probably needed the rest.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Viktor joined Yuuri on the couch, keeping a respectable distance between them. It was awkward but Yuuri didn’t really seem to mind. He observed Viktor silently, face expressionless and devastatingly beautiful. Viktor returned the gaze a little helplessly.

He didn’t know what he was doing here. And, he realized, he didn’t even know who Yuuri was.

But did know that he didn’t really want to leave.

“Who are you?” he whispered, hesitant and low but still loud enough for Yuuri to hear. “I mean – you know my name and what I did. But I don’t know anything about you other than a name and that you’re very…nice.”

He’d been about to say _kind_ but Yuuri’s words from earlier rang in his head. Not noble or selfless, he’d said, calling himself selfish. Viktor only half believed him but he was also aware that there was something odd about Yuuri. Maybe he was kind, maybe he wasn’t. But he was definitely nice.

Yuuri thankfully didn’t comment on Viktor’s hesitation or his word choice. He just hummed thoughtfully and shifted on the couch so that he was sitting cross-legged and facing Viktor.

“I’m Katsuki Yuuri. Yuuri Katsuki to you, I guess. I’m a social recluse who’s been in Hasetsu for around two years but still doesn’t know more than a handful of people by name. Really, I’m not that interesting.”

Viktor begged to differ but he didn’t push, not yet comfortable enough with Yuuri or their relationship to do so. Instead, he latched on to something else.

“Katsuki? That’s your family name then? Do you have anything to do with Yu-topia?”

Yuuri shook his head, lips tilting minutely. He had really nice smiles.

“No. I was surprised when I got here but it’s just a coincidence. I almost wish I was part of that family because unlimited access to the onsen sounds wonderful.”

Viktor nodded vigorously, perking up a little at the memory of the hot springs.

“Yes! It really would be.” Yu-topia with a Yuuri there would be even better. That made him wonder though– “Do you have a job, Yuuri?”

Wait, did that sound rude? Probably. Viktor grimaced a little, looking away from Yuuri. He felt as if he’d forgotten how to talk to people. Maybe he had.

Yuuri, bless him, answered without comment.

“Kind of. I’m here for a break but recently, I’ve been working at the ice rink I mentioned. A couple manages it but one of them broke his leg and his wife can’t do it alone while also caring for him and their kids. I’d been getting a bit bored here so I took the job when she offered. It’s part time though. I work in the evening.”

Yuuri worked at an ice rink. Viktor wasn’t sure how he felt about that but he had to admit that the coincidence pleased him in ways that only had a little to do with skating. Was it foolish to think of believing in fate at his age?

“Do you skate then?”

“Not really. I won’t fall on my face if I go out on the ice but that’s it.”

“Oh, okay. Were you there today?”

“No, I took a few days off. I’ll return tomorrow now that you’re better.”

And just like that, any and all relaxation Viktor had managed while talking to Yuuri disappeared. Yuuri had taken time off work for him. On purpose or not, Viktor was disrupting Yuuri’s life.

It wasn’t really guilt that he felt.

In the back of his mind, a little voice whispered darkly that Yuuri brought it on himself, that he should have just let–

No, it wasn’t guilt.

It was despair.

“I’m sorr–”

“Stop that. Viktor, listen to me. It was my choice.”

He started so badly that he tumbled off the couch, gaping up at Yuuri who stared back with a baffled expression, unaware of the way he’d just parroted the words Viktor was ashamed to have thought.

“Viktor, are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” he assured quickly, too quickly. “Just got dizzy. And, uh, I’m still sorry?”

Yuuri was frowning at him now, eyes boring into Viktor like he was trying to puzzle him out. He wished him luck. Most days, Viktor himself didn’t know where his pieces were or what they were like.

“Viktor,” Yuuri said after a long pause. There was something compelling about his voice, his gaze, that made Viktor sit up straight and _listen_. “I know you find this hard to believe and I can understand why. But I will say it again and again if you wish. You’re here because I want you here. I wanted it two nights ago, I want it now and I feel as if I will want it for quite some time. You’re not a bother. If you wish to leave, I will not stop you. But if you would rather stay, then I will be happy to have you. Do you think I’m lying, Viktor?”

Viktor sat frozen, staring dumbstruck at Yuuri. His words seemed to burrow into Viktor’s mind and reverberate. Questioning their veracity would be blasphemous.

“No. No, you’re not lying. Yuuri, I–”

He choked on the words he wanted to say, all of them clumsy and inadequate on his tongue. His eyes burned and Viktor bowed his head, blinking back tears. For once, they weren’t bitter but sweet with a relief that knew no bounds.

He believed Yuuri.

“Okay,” Viktor said when he finally composed himself. “I won’t apologize again. I’ll believe you, Yuuri. But in return, promise me that you’ll tell me to fuck off if I ever bother you.”

Yuuri seemed startled at the language but he recovered quickly, shaking his head with a smile.

“I promise. I don’t think you have to worry about that though.” His smile grew milder and when he spoke again, there was something almost wondering in his voice. “I find you far too interesting.”

“Is that a good thing?” Viktor had to ask.

Yuuri didn’t answer immediately. He got to his feet and offered a hand to Viktor who gripped it and pulled himself up. Yuuri’s hand was delightfully cool against his fever-flushed skin. He didn’t want to let go but then Yuuri pulled away and he had to.

“We’ll have to see, won’t we?” Yuuri said, stepping closer to Viktor, the sudden proximity dazzling him enough that he had to take a moment to understand Yuuri’s response. “I look forward to finding the answer with you, Viktor.”

“Yes.” Yuuri’s hand was on his forehead again, taking his temperature. Viktor wanted to melt into the touch. “Me too.”

He meant it.

Yuuri’s grin was bright and predacious, and Viktor felt a thrill as potent as landing a quad flip.

He shivered.

He wanted to whine at the loss when Yuuri pulled away and headed towards the kitchen but he beckoned Viktor to follow and he did, feeling caught in a spell not of his own making but oddly content to be trapped.

 

~

 

Dinner had been miso soup from Yu-topia, hot and delicious. Yuuri had watched while Viktor ate, saying he’d already fed, and it should have been weird or at least awkward but in truth, it had been comfortable. There had been an ease to their silence that hadn’t been present before and Viktor, who was used to filling the air with meaningless chatter, found it unexpectedly soothing.

Somehow, everything was different with Yuuri.

He liked it.

Afterwards, he sprawled on the couch while Yuuri took the chair opposite him. They still didn’t talk. Yuuri was focused on his phone and Viktor was content to just look at Yuuri. It was a fascinating activity. Viktor felt as if he could giddily write an essay on the long curve of Yuuri’s eyelashes, the softness of his cheeks, the pale pink of his lips, the golden glow of his skin, the–

It was when the Yuuri on the chair became a too-real specter that swept his hands along Viktor’s face and walked his fingers down the dip of his throat that Viktor jerked awake, far too warm and distantly aware that he’d dozed off.

His skin prickled, aching. His neck hurt.

“Sleepy?” Yuuri asked, drawing Viktor out of his mental revisit of the brief dream.

“Ah – yes. I can’t imagine why. You said it yourself, I slept all day.”

“More can’t hurt, it seems. Go on ahead. You can have the bed.”

There was only one bedroom in this house then.

“What about you?”

“The couch is fine. And no, don’t even think about it. You need the bed and proper rest more than I do.”

Viktor appreciated Yuuri’s consideration. Truly, he did. But sick or not, there was a line to how much he’d let this man coddle him at the cost of his own comfort. The idea of sleeping on the couch while he ached down to his bones didn’t seem too appealing either so he blurted out the only solution that came to his mind.

“We could share the bed.”

Yuuri stared at him.

And kept staring.

Viktor shifted a little under Yuuri’s gaze but stood his ground.

“It’s the best compromise. I can’t bear to kick you out of your own bed, Yuuri, not when I know you’ve already put up with it for days.”

Yuuri smirked at that, playful.

“Oh? How do you know? Maybe I made a habit of cuddling your unconscious self while you were too out of it to stop me.”

“Yuuri! That’s creepy!”

“Like most of our interactions, you mean?”

And well, Viktor couldn’t argue against that. He just didn’t have the energy to care, not when he was so comfortable with Yuuri.

“Did you actually do that though?”

“Of course not. The most I did was sit on the bed to feed you and clean you up. I prefer my bed partners to be willing and conscious.”

He appreciated Yuuri’s respect for consent but he was far more preoccupied by the mental image of Yuuri feeding his indisposed self. It should have been embarrassing that he had been so out of it that he needed another to do even the most basic things for him but instead, he was touched by the lengths Yuuri had went to take care of him.

Viktor smiled, small and pleased.

“Thank you, Yuuri.”

“Hm, what for?”

“Oh, nothing. So, how about it? Are you okay with sharing? I promise not to be a bother.”

That was a lie. Viktor was pretty sure he sprawled across all available space and clutched at whoever was close (Makk- _no_ , don’t) in the grip of sleep. Hopefully, Yuuri didn’t know that.

“Is that so?” Yuuri drawled with a glint in eyes that made Viktor doubt that Yuuri did indeed know. “And do you make a habit of inviting strangers to share your bed, Viktor Nikiforov?”

This, he could answer easily. _Viktor Nikiforov_ had been known for his preference for classy bars and pretty strangers.

“Yes, actually. Well, I used to. I haven’t invited anyone to bed in a long time though.”

For an instant, Yuuri looked surprised before it dissolved into soft chuckles that put to rest Viktor’s flash of fear that he was going to judge him. He shouldn’t even care. He never had before but it was clear Yuuri was already an exception to many things.

“Alright,” Yuuri said once the laughter passed. Some of the softness lingered on his face. “The bed’s big enough, I suppose.”

Viktor beamed.

“Shall we go then?” Yuuri asked, standing up. Viktor followed readily, all too aware of the drowsiness dragging down his limbs.

“Sure.”

Yuuri made the bed with new sheets while Viktor used the bathroom. The other man was already settled under the covers when Viktor entered the bedroom, only his head and shoulders peeking out. Viktor absently tugged at the hem of the shirt he was wearing. He usually slept naked but that wasn’t an option now. Besides, Yuuri’s clothes were cozy.

It wasn’t as weird as expected to slide into the bed beside Yuuri. He kept looking at Viktor but the weight of his gaze was familiar and reassuring already.

Viktor kept a polite distance between them, skeptical of his ability to keep it once he fell asleep but also wanting to try because he didn’t want to make Yuuri uncomfortable.

“Good night, Yuuri.”

“Good night, Viktor. I hope you feel better tomorrow.”

Viktor smiled automatically, fake and frozen. _Feel better_. Of course he would, one day soon. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the day after.

And then he’d leave and Yuuri would go back to his life. That was how it should be.

Knowing it was right didn’t mean Viktor had to like it.

“Yes,” he said in the cheeriest tone he could muster. It grated on his own ears. “Me too.”

And then suddenly, Yuuri was hovering over him, a frown marring his lovely face.

“Are you okay?”

“Ah – yes?” Viktor sputtered, caught off guard. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. You sounded odd just now.”

There was something warm and too big unfurling in Viktor’s chest. Yuuri had noticed. It was alarming in a way because even Yakov had been fooled by Viktor for so, so long and he didn’t know how to deal with someone who could tell, even just a little, when he was putting on a persona.

But it was nice too, to be seen.

“I’m fine, Yuuri,” he replied, smile mild but real. “Thank you for caring.”

Yuuri didn’t smile back or speak. He held Viktor’s gaze for an instant that stretched into infinity and then withdrew, lying down on his side of the bed again.

“Sweet dreams, Viktor.”

Viktor was out as soon as he heard him.

 

~

 

His blood was on fire.

A fire of fierce pleasure that made Viktor ache to melt into it and never, ever reform. His neck longed for a forgotten touch.

There was a wanting in his veins.

Viktor came into awareness slowly, keeping eyes still closed even as he shuddered hard at the remnants of his all too brief dream. There were images, indistinct, of someone dark and looming but the accompanying sensations were vivid and scorching, igniting a curl of arousal low in his belly only for it to peter out as his body made its sickly exhaustion known.

It was infuriating how Viktor could sleep so much and still feel this tired.

He shifted on the bed, burrowing his face into the soft flesh–

Flesh?

Beds didn’t have flesh. People did.

And he’d slept with Yuuri last night.

The last vestiges of sleep fled, taking the leftover fragments of his strangely erotic dream with it. Dread pooled in his chest and Viktor, for the life of him, couldn’t make himself open his eyes, not when he knew what he would find.

He’d known this would happen.

And yet he’d–

“Viktor, I know you’re awake.”

Oh. Busted.

He cautiously opened one eye, only to see a whole lot of nothing because his face was all but molded to what was probably some part of Yuuri. It felt like his stomach, soft and inviting. Even as scared as he was of Yuuri’s disapproval, it took some effort to pry himself off.

Prying himself off was easier said than done though. He managed to detach his face from Yuuri’s abdomen and somehow realized only then that his arms were wrapped around the man and that their legs were tangled at some contorted angles. Yuuri was on his back, his head propped up on his folded arms and looking down at Viktor with a curiously blank expression.

“…Hi, Yuuri.”

“Good morning. Comfortable down there?”

“I am so sorry!”

And he was. He never meant to make Yuuri uncomfortable. The sleeping arrangement had sounded like a good idea last night even though Viktor had known he’d get like this and honestly, it still felt good to touch someone like this after so long but that was selfish of him and he knew it. He should have taken the couch, pain be damned. At least he wouldn’t have done this to Yuuri then and wow, Viktor had yet to pull away and how, exactly, was he supposed to when he had most of Yuuri’s weight pinning down his limbs? Maybe if he –

A hand settled on his head, fingers threading into his hair and snapping Viktor out of his rambling train of thoughts.

“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you when you said you’d keep to your side of the bed,” Yuuri told him. He sounded amused. Was that how Yuuri hid his anger? Viktor used to do that but he didn’t know Yuuri well enough to tell.

“Sorry,” he said again, not knowing what else to say. He tugged at his left arm where it was buried under Yuuri’s lower back, perilously close to his ass. Yuuri didn’t budge and neither did his arm.

“Hey, Viktor, look at me.”

Reluctantly, Viktor took his eyes off from where one of his legs were drawn up and tucked around Yuuri’s thighs, and looked up at Yuuri to see that he was actually smiling. It didn’t seem false or a front for some darker emotion but Viktor couldn’t know for sure.

“You didn’t answer. Are you comfortable? And I don’t want another apology.”

Yuuri was concerned about his comfort? Or was he just mocking Viktor? He didn’t know and either way, the safe answer would be a vehement denial and some thoughtful white lies about bad sleeping habits.

Viktor told him the truth.

“Yes. It felt…nice. Until I woke up properly and realized what I’d done to you.”

Yuuri’s smile didn’t waver.

“Is that why you look so terrified right now?”

“Well, aren’t you angry?”

Yuuri shrugged then arched his back, taking his weight off Viktor’s hand which he pulled back to his side swiftly. He removed the arm and leg he’d thrown over Yuuri as well. One leg remained tangled with Yuuri’s, held still under his own. Yuuri didn’t seem intent on helping him with that just yet and in spite of their situation, Viktor was glad for an excuse to remain so close to him for just a little longer.

He knew it would be the last and only time.

“If I were, don’t you think I would have pushed you off?”

That threw him for a loop.

“But, I – you could have been just trying not to wake me up?”

Yuuri sighed and Viktor imagined he could hear a tinge of fondness within the exasperation that colored the sound.

“I keep telling you I’m not so kind but you seem determined not to believe me. So I’ll spell it out for you, Viktor. No, I wasn’t. If your nighttime transformation into a squirming octopus had truly bothered me, I wouldn’t have put up with it.”

‘Squirming octopus’ was probably the least endearing thing anyone had ever called him but that didn’t stop the giddy burst of pleasure in his chest or the faint warming of his ears.

“Thank you?”

Viktor wanted to stretch out so that he wasn’t folded into himself like this but that would put his face uncomfortably close to Yuuri’s and he wasn’t ready for that just yet.

Yuuri was silent for a moment, observing Viktor without words. Then he said, “You slept better.”

“What?”

“Like this. You slept more peacefully than the times I saw you sleep alone. Of course, that could be just because the fever’s going down–”

“No!” Viktor cut him off without thinking and then repeated the word again, gentler but resolute. “No, Yuuri.”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve never liked sleeping alone. I rarely got to spend the night with people and it was usually my – my – anyway, you’re right, I probably slept better because I was all over you. I’m still sorry though. It was incredibly rude.”

Yuuri combed his fingers through Viktor’s hair, a sweet reminder that his hand was there.

“Alright. I forgive you. I’ll tell you something. I usually hate sharing the bed with another. I hate touching too. But when you asked last night, I didn’t want to say no. _Not_ to indulge you.” That was said with a pointed glance that killed the automatic apology blooming on Viktor’s tongue. “I wanted to say yes. And when you wrapped yourself around me last night, I didn’t hate it as much as I should have. After a while, I realized I even liked it. You’re, uh, very warm.”

Yuuri grimaced at the end and actually looked away, biting in lips. Viktor, reeling from the dual strikes of Yuuri’s words and his unprecedented bashfulness, had to take a full minute to gather his thoughts. Even then, all he managed to say out loud was, “Oh, _Yuuri_.”

Yuuri met his eyes again. Whatever he saw on Viktor’s face made his eyes widen and his fingers tighten almost painfully in Viktor’s hair. He soothed over the sting soon after with gentle strokes of his clever fingers.

A thought popped up, unbidden and unnecessary, of how else they could make him feel good.

Viktor was suddenly very glad that he still felt too sick to really let his mind wander to the gutter.

“- if you want? Viktor, are you listening?”

He smiled, sheepish, and hoped Yuuri wouldn’t ask what was on his mind.

“Sorry, Yuuri. Can you repeat it?”

Yuuri sighed again but did as requested.

“I said that if you want, I can sleep here with you until you leave. The arrangement sounds pleasing to me too so you don’t have to worry about my comfort. If I have a problem, I promise I’ll just shove you off the bed.”

Viktor wanted to laugh and accept Yuuri’s offer with jovial nonchalance but that might mean he had to stop staring at Yuuri with awed reverence and he _couldn’t_.

He blamed Yuuri and his unflinching kindness for the words that came out of his mouth next.

“You’re so good to me, Yuuri. I wish I didn’t have to leave.”

He winced the next instant and practically threw himself away from Yuuri, wrenching his trapped leg away with a force born of sheer desperation. Yuuri let him go, quietly watching as Viktor scooted to the other side of the bed and tried to calm his pounding heart.

Terror coursed through his veins.

“ _Der'mo_ ,” he spat, furious at himself, only for the anger to fizzle out as Yuuri tilted his head curiously. “I – I’m so sorry. God, I keep saying that but I am. Please forget I said that, I didn’t mean – of course you won’t – I was just being–”

“Sure.”

“–stupid. Wait, what?”

“You said you don’t want to leave. Then don’t. Stay as long as you like.”

Viktor blankly gazed at Yuuri for a long moment before he pinched himself, half-sure that this was just another dream. The pain was as real as the laughter that suddenly appeared in Yuuri’s eyes.

“This is real, Viktor. So is my offer.”

“Why?” Viktor exploded, not anger but pure confusion saturating his words. “You can’t possibly mean that. Yuuri, people don’t just do something like that.”

“Oh, don’t they? I wouldn’t know. I’m not like most people.”

Yes, Viktor was starting to see that.

“But–”

“Viktor, you’re so shocked that I’d allow you to remain here as long as you wish but you don’t seem to realize that you desire to stay is as absurd as my approval. Neither of us are acting as we ‘should’.”

Yuuri put actual air quotes around the word. Viktor couldn’t help a smile even amidst his mental turmoil.

There was something rising inside him, bubbly and consuming.

He thought it might be hope.

But he had to ask, “Why though?”

It was as much of a question to himself as for Yuuri but the other man responded before Viktor could try to find his own answer.

“I don’t know for certain. You interest me and I’m not one who feels that often. Besides, they say that if you save someone’s life, then you’re responsible for them. And I very much do not mind being responsible for you, Viktor.”

It shouldn’t have been an epiphany. But it struck Viktor right that moment just how fundamentally strange all of this was.

Yuuri had rescued him but had yet to ask him about the incident that led to it. Yuuri fed him and cared for him but asked for no compensation. Yuuri freely admitted to his uncharacteristic interest in Viktor but made no untoward advances. Yuuri was mysterious but his words always felt so honest.

Viktor barely knew him but he liked him, felt safe with him, wanted to stay with him.

It was the first time in a long time that he really wanted anything.

Yuuri had been right before. Neither of them was acting rationally. This entire situation defied rationality.

But the strangest thing was that Viktor wouldn’t have it any other way. Whatever was happening, wherever this was leading, Viktor wanted to pursue it. Wise or not, he wanted to see this through to the end. Instinct told him that it would be worth it, that _Yuuri_ would be worth it.

Lost in contemplation, he hadn’t noticed that Yuuri was growing increasingly puzzled, not until the man was crawling across the bed towards him. It was a short distance which was a pity because the sight was arresting enough to pause Viktor’s mind in its track.

“It’s fine if you changed your mind,” Yuuri told him quietly, staring intensely into Viktor’s eye. He wanted him to never look away. “I understand that it was a spur of the moment–”

“No!”

“No?”`

“It wasn’t like that. I meant it. I mean it. I don’t care if we’re being irrational. I want to stay, Yuuri. Please let me.”

Yuuri’s answering smile was slow and sharp.

“Of course.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Der'mo: Shit  
> (Any Russian in this fic will be used after consulting websites since I don’t know anyone who speaks the language. Feel free to correct me.)
> 
> The ‘save someone’s life and you’re responsible for them’ part doesn’t have any actual philosophical or cultural roots as far as I know. Yuuri thinks this too but at the moment, he likes the idea.
> 
> In case you were wondering, yes, two of them are moving very fast and making questionable decisions. On Yuuri’s part, it’s deliberate because his priority is his growing interest in Viktor (more on this the next chapter) and conventional morality is a joke to him. Viktor, on the other hand, is too swept up in the beginnings of the first genuine connection he has felt for another person in ages.


	3. i want you stuffed into my mouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri have settled into their cohabitation but then Yuuri gets hungry.
> 
> (Get in the train, Yuuri.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m basing some of Viktor’s behavior on my own while the rest is borrowed from others I know who have depression. 
> 
> **Warning:** Yuuri makes out with a male OC in this chapter. It’s less foreplay and more seasoning. It doesn’t go far either.

A week later, Viktor left.

And Yuuri let him go.

The day prior, Viktor had assured him numerous times, maybe for as much as his own sake as Yuuri’s, that he would be back as soon as possible. And Yuuri had wholeheartedly believed him because there had been a kind of desperate sincerity in Viktor’s eyes that repelled all doubt.

Of course Viktor would return.

The problem was that it had been barely an hour since his reluctant departure and the house already felt too hollow. Yuuri was well aware of how ridiculous that sounded considering that he’d been living here all alone for many months while Viktor had been around for mere days. But ridiculous or not, fact was fact.

Viktor was gone and the place was lesser for it.

It would have been one thing if Viktor was a firecracker who filled up the space and the silence with the force of his presence. Yuuri could see why he’d feel his absence so keenly then. But in reality, Viktor was a quiet man whose moments of loud cheer were far outstripped by his more subdued moods. He spent most of his time curled up on the couch or the bed. Even after the sickly sweetness vanished from his scent alongside his temperature and body pain, Viktor remained lethargic and drowsy, sleeping for most of the day and waking at odd intervals.

He almost always sought out Yuuri during those times, a loyal shadow with too few words and too much hands. He’d attach himself to Yuuri, uncaring of personal space, and hang on tight as if afraid that Yuuri would disappear the second he let go. He’d seem so happy when Yuuri joined him in bed, not even trying since that first time to keep his distance and instead just latching onto him the instant he was under the covers. Sometimes they’d talk – and those times seemed to be slowly increasing over the week – about small things that meant nothing and everything at the same time.

There was never any doubt that he wanted to stay with Yuuri in his little house by the sea, spending his time in perfect languor. Even leaving this morning had caused more consternation for Viktor than Yuuri despite it being a short trip to check out of his hotel and retrieve his belongings.

Maybe that was exactly why Yuuri missed him already. Viktor wasn’t loud or energetic but he was always _there_ , a constant presence that Yuuri was hyperaware of.

This unusual attachment was Yuuri’s own fault. What had begun as mere curiosity was now abject fascination that threatened to cross over into complete obsession.

Viktor was a mystery wrapped in an enigma and Yuuri found himself blindly feeling around the edges of his casing without any real hurry, content to find out what was inside when the time came. There was Viktor Nikiforov, a man who’d made history on the ice and moved like grace personified, and then there was Yuuri’s Viktor who slept too much and ate too little, whose smiles were plastic and eyes were lost. The two seemed irreconcilable and yet they had been the same once upon a time.

Yuuri didn’t understand him.

But he knew Viktor was special. Not because of his old fame and not because of his oddities but because each time Yuuri looked at him, he was seized with the need to pull him close and then closer, to hold tight and never let go.

He should have taken it as a warning when he hadn’t been able to wash his hands off the human when he was unconscious and dependant. It was natural that it had only become worse – or better – once Viktor was awake and all the more entrancing for it.

Yuuri had played human for Viktor, had softened and smiled and soothed.

Yuuri had slipped up later, had pulled and pushed too fast, too far.

Both times, Viktor not only stayed but also crept closer, as caught up in Yuuri as Yuuri was in him.

It had been hard to believe at first, so much so that Yuuri had suspected himself of unconsciously compelling the man to bend to his whims. But no, he had done nothing of the sort. It had all been Viktor.

There was something between the two of them; something live and sparking and incredible.

And so Yuuri had a housemate with little regard for personal space and a penchant for making him smile and he liked it.

He still didn’t know what Viktor was to him. He was human and prey. That would never change. But he was also more than that. There were layers to Viktor and Yuuri had only scratched the surface. That was fine though.

They had time, the two of them.

Yuuri didn’t know if this was what companionship felt like but Viktor was the first person in his second life that he felt the urge to hold on to.

He would.

He’d never let go.

 

* * *

 

Viktor returned three hours later with a single large suitcase and groceries.

Yuuri was too embarrassed to tell him that he’d spent most of that time on the veranda, waiting for him.

“Is this all?” he asked, taking the suitcase from Viktor who relinquished it with only a token protest.

“I didn’t bring much. It was something of a snap decision, coming here.”

Yuuri waited to see if any more information would be forthcoming but Viktor remained silent, his too-bright smile growing strained at the edges. Any and all information about Viktor’s past was revealed like this, in almost accidental snippets that drained the light from the human’s face.

Yuuri never pushed.

“I’ll take this to the bedroom. You can unpack later. Are those groceries?”

Viktor nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes! I was thinking of what I could do to help you out if I’m staying here and this was the first thing that came to mind. I’ve lived alone for most of my life so I know my way around the kitchen.” His smile softened into a vague heart-shape, the faux cheer disappearing and being replaced by genuine sweetness. “This way, you can also eat something homemade.”

Yuuri appreciated Viktor’s good intentions. Really, he did.

That didn’t mean he was at all enthused by the thought of eating human food. So far, he’d managed to get away with not eating along with Viktor thanks to his erratic sleep cycle and many white lies. But if Viktor planned to cook for them both…

Well, he’d be spending a lot of time making friends with the toilet.

Yuuri was starkly reminded of why he’d never lived with humans before.

Was this worth it?

“Is everything alright, Yuuri?”

He looked at Viktor who was gazing intently at him, blue eyes warm with concern.

“Yes, it’s fine.” It was Viktor. Of course he was worth it. “Thank you.”

“I should be thanking you, Yuuri.”

“You’ve done that too many times these last few days.”

Viktor giggled, looking criminally adorable as always, and made a beeline for the kitchen. Yuuri did as he said and took the suitcase to the bedroom. Viktor was putting away everything he’d bought when Yuuri joined him in the kitchen.

“I’ll miss seeing you in my clothes,” was what slipped out of Yuuri’s mouth, perhaps without full participation from his brain. It was true though. Viktor wore them better than Yuuri ever did and he always felt a strange thrill when seeing Viktor walk around in Yuuri’s clothes, smelling like him.

Viktor dropped the lemon he’d been holding. There was a bright flush at the tips of his ears.

“Yuuri,” Viktor said a little weakly. “Do you even know what that sounds like?”

“Hmm?” He was getting somewhat distracted by the way that flush was spreading to Viktor’s face. It was never a good thing to be so obviously reminded that Viktor had hot, delicious blood pumping under that soft skin of his. Yuuri’s gums ached, fangs itching for release. “What does it sound like?”

It was steadily creeping down Viktor’s neck now. Yuuri didn’t have to try too hard to remember how it felt to bite deep into the base of it.

Maybe he could somehow convince Viktor to keep wearing Yuuri’s clothes. Visual appeal aside, it would camouflage his painfully delectable human scent a bit.

“Do you think you could keep wearing them?” Yuuri asked, tearing his eyes away from Viktor’s neck. The man was gaping at him, skin a wonderful mess of white and red. That didn’t help Yuuri at all.

Viktor opened his mouth and then closed it wordlessly. His eyes were still very wide.

“Is that… a kink of yours?”

Now that brought Yuuri up short, effectively wrenching his focus away from the thirst burning inside.

“I’m sorry?”

Viktor looked not quite uncomfortable but he was fidgeting and blinking. A lot.

That was when the full implications of their conversation really hit Yuuri. Mind unclouded by the first stirrings of hunger, he could see exactly what he’d sounded like.

_Oh._

“That came out wrong,” he said, only to pause when he realized that he didn’t really have any way to explain what he actually meant. The truth was out of the question. And honestly, Viktor’s assumption wasn’t strictly wrong either. “Or maybe not. No, wait–”

Deep breaths. He didn’t need oxygen but he sure could use the air right now.

It was time to play human again. Yuuri could do this.

“I didn’t really think about what I was saying before. I apologize, Viktor. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh, you mean you don’t want to see me in your clothes?”

Viktor asked the question innocently enough and there was still the remnants of a blush on the tips of his ears. But there was a telltale tilt to his mouth and Yuuri could swear that his eyes gleamed with mischief.

“I – uh – no comment.”

“But Yuuuuuri!” Yes, that was definitely amusement coloring his voice and eyes. Yuuri tried and failed to fake a frown, too delighted to see this playful side of Viktor again. “You just said you wanted me to.”

“Can you forget I said that?”

“Nope!”

Infuriating man.

“Fine then. Yes, I like seeing you in my clothes. I wouldn’t call it a _kink_ but I like it. There. Happy now?”

Viktor was grinning outright, eyes crinkling with it. He was just so beautiful.

“Quite. I don’t mind, you know. Your clothes are so comfortable.”

Yuuri’s answering smile was slow but it widened as he imagined Viktor continuing to putter around his house in his oversized sweaters and baggy pants. It wasn’t the most aesthetically attractive look but Viktor could wear rags and still be stunning.

“Really?”

“Mm really. It’s not like I bought many clothes with me anyway. Honestly, I don’t even know most of what I packed.”

There it was again, the hint that Viktor had been out of sorts when he planned this whole thing. Yuuri was sure it was unusual for people to run to a different country with a drastically different culture without careful deliberation.

Viktor was a puzzle Yuuri would learn how to piece together.

“I could suggest that you can buy more here but that would be counterproductive to my own aims. Unless you’re the type to only wear brand names in which case, Hasetsu’s markets aren’t really for you.”

“I used to be.” Viktor had his face turned to the side now, his bangs hiding his expression from Yuuri’s view. His fingers idly played with another lemon.

Unable to help himself, Yuuri rounded the dining table and came to a stop in front of Viktor, close enough to feel his heat. He slid an arm around Viktor’s waist and pulled him against his body, the two of them slotting together like they were made for it. Viktor was stiff and awkward against him but his arms hesitantly came around Yuuri, winding around his back. By slow increments, Viktor started to relax as Yuuri had known he would.

It was clear enough that Viktor craved touch. Yuuri seldom initiated it but he didn’t mind at all. He liked touching Viktor too.

Yuuri stroked Viktor’s hair, enjoying the softness of the strands as they slipped through his fingers. He nosed at the space behind Viktor’s ear, drawing in his scent and suffering sweetly.

Only once he was all but molded to Yuuri did Viktor make a sound and even that was just a gentle sigh that warmed the skin of Yuuri’s neck.

Yuuri knew from experience that they wouldn’t be moving for a while.

He held Viktor tighter.

 

* * *

 

In the next few of days, Yuuri realized a couple of things. One: Viktor was a good cook judging by the lovely smells that filled the house while he commandeered the kitchen and the general appearance of the end products. Two: It was a small miracle that this man had survived living on his own for so long.

He could theoretically take care of himself. He could feed himself, could maintain a clean living space, could wash and groom, could–

Well, he _could_ do a lot of things.

He just seemed inclined to do very few of them.

When he cooked, he always made too much and shoved the leftovers in the fridge. They often lasted days with how little Viktor ate and how Yuuri religiously avoided eating at all. He was always willing to help with the chores but seemed to tire so easily that Yuuri couldn’t imagine him in athletic training.  His baths were irregular at best, always taking place at odd hours and lasting long enough that Yuuri ended up honing in on Viktor’s breathing to make sure he was alive. His sleep cycle was an utter mess, day and night both subordinated to Viktor’s faulty biological clock.

Yuuri didn’t mind any of it. Viktor acted nothing like humans were ‘supposed’ to but to Yuuri, who never slept and never ate and spent most of his time buried in a book or in his own mind, Viktor’s unpredictable schedule was yet another point of fascination.

He had no problem with helping Viktor clean up or with acting as a fleshy pillow whenever the man deemed Yuuri as the best place to fall asleep on.

He was happy enough to watch Viktor, whether awake or not, and memorize the fine details of his existence.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Yuuri, what did you do before coming to Hasetsu?”

Yuuri looked up from his book and saw that Viktor had abandoned the bright, frenetic game he’d been playing on his phone and was now looking up at him, his silver hair a halo around his face where it lay on Yuuri’s lap.

It was nearly midnight but Viktor was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, having woken only a couple of hours ago. He was clearly in a good mood. He tended to not touch his phone otherwise.

And Viktor’s good moods typically meant questions so Yuuri wasn’t all that surprised.  He never pushed, though sometimes he pouted, and was normally content to wait for Yuuri to sort out his thoughts and decide what to share. It was a system that had worked well so far.

“It’s complicated,” Yuuri said after a lengthy pause. It was his standard answer to most of Viktor’s questions about his life before Hasetsu. Yuuri preferred not to lie and the truth was not even an option. “I guess you could say I was in law enforcement.”

Viktor visibly perked up at that, blue eyes widening in wonder. He abandoned Yuuri’s thighs in favor of sitting up and facing him.

“Y _uu_ ri, were you a secret agent?”

“I – that’s not – well, it’s a reasonable assumption but no, nothing that grand.”

What the hell did vampires need secret agents for? They had loose rules and a relatively hands off ruling body. No need to complicate things.

Viktor was hard at thought again, his eyebrows furrowing cutely. Without thinking, Yuuri reached out to poke at it, starling Viktor and earning himself a look of wide-eyed reproach.

“You’re trying to distract me,” Viktor accused. There it was, that pout. Yuuri smiled because it was hard not to when Viktor got like this. For a thirty year old man, he could pull of a childlike façade remarkably well and make it endearing rather than annoying. Though Yuuri was admittedly quite biased. Literally everything about Viktor was too interesting for him to dislike.

“Maybe.” He bopped Viktor on the nose and pulled back his finger when Viktor snapped his teeth at it. “Can’t have you figuring out all my secrets.”

“I can’t help it. You have a lot of secrets. Such a mysterious man you are, Yuuri.”

“I’m not the only mysterious man in this room.”

“Oh, no. You’ve said it yourself, I’m a public figure. No mystery to that.”

Viktor smiled prettily, so dazzling that one could be so easily fooled into thinking it was real. Yuuri knew better now, having seen what Viktor’s real smiles were like. They made him _glow_ , as if lit from within by the brightest of lights.

For a moment, Yuuri contemplated ignoring it like he had all the times before. He could change the subject, avoid dangerous waters, and sooner or later, the glassiness in Viktor’s eyes would disappear and he’d seem real again. That was the path of least resistance, the one Yuuri had taken many times during their time together.

This time, he didn’t want to.

However briefly it may last, the fake cheer Viktor sported would taint their interactions, killing their easy connection as Viktor pretended he wasn’t hurting from something and Yuuri acted as if he didn’t see.

Yuuri reached out and with his thumb, tugged down one corner of Viktor’s mouth.

“You don’t need to do that. Smile when you don’t want to.”

Viktor froze, his whole face smoothing over into a terrible blankness that was worse than any shock or fear could be. Yuuri waited, hand still hovering near Viktor’s face.

“Is it that obvious?” Viktor asked eventually, voice far too quiet.

“It is to me.”

“Ah.” His lips twisted into something that was more a strained grimace than the grin it was probably meant to be. “You already know me too well, Yuuri. It’s scary.”

“I’m sorry.” But he wasn’t, not even a bit. “Does that bother you?”

Viktor’s gaze flickered away from Yuuri’s face, flitting from the wall to the window to the bed and then finally back to Yuuri.

“No. I think…I like it.” Then he laughed, a quiet, hollow sound with a hint of hysteria in it. “Fear’s never held me back from the things I want before. I won’t let it start now.”

“Is this something you want?” It was an unfair question. Viktor didn’t really know what he was getting into with Yuuri. But what did fairness matter anyway.

In answer, Viktor pushed his cheek into the hand Yuuri had been holding out, curving one of his own around its back. He sighed, eyes half-closing as he nuzzled into the touch.

“Oh yes, Yuuri. It’s the first thing I’ve wanted in a very long time. You’ll have to be patient with me though. Some of my mysteries will have to remain in the dark for a while yet.”

“And here I thought you said you had no mysteries.” Yuuri thumbed the sleek curve of Viktor’s cheekbone, feeling unbearably fond. “We have time, Viktor. So much time.”

He patted Viktor’s cheek once, twice, and pulled his hand back. It tingled with Viktor’s warmth; the same warmth that Yuuri yearned to pull into himself with lips and teeth. He knew he couldn’t.

“Meanwhile, no fake smiles?” Viktor asked, more than a little uncertain.

“Not for my sake. If they make you feel better, then by all means…”

“No. They don’t do that at all. I just–” Viktor chewed on his lips before shrugging. “Thank you, Yuuri. Sometimes, I can’t believe you’re real.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something about me that will horrify you soon enough.”

Viktor pulled a face as if he couldn’t ever see that happening. Yuuri, though, remembered quite clearly what had happened the last time a human walked in on his meal time. There had been two deaths that night.

Some shocks you couldn’t will away. The human mind was as delicate as it was durable.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten the original question, Yuu-ri.”

Yuuri shook his head at Viktor, smiling despite himself.

“I have to keep some of my mysteries too, Viktor. All in due time.”

Viktor’s answering smile could have outshone the sun.

 

* * *

 

“You’re pretty.”

Yuuri stopped breathing.

He’d known that Viktor was watching him, had been feeling that particular itch for nearly an hour, but it was such a common occurrence that he hadn’t felt the need to look up from where he was struggling to make sense of the book in his hand. Humans were one thing but human teenagers were a whole other level of insanity, even in stories. Trying to parse the protagonist’s motivations had momentarily taken precedence over returning Viktor’s stare.

But really, Yuuri should have known by this point that Viktor’s unique brand of Yuuri-specific danger should never be underestimated.

If he’d been more careful, he wouldn’t have ended up making a fool of himself by trying to speak when he didn’t have _air_.

Viktor kept staring, amused and adoring.

“What.”

Now, didn’t this remind him of something?

“You heard me. You’re so pretty, Yuuri. Sometimes, I want to just curl up and look at you forever.”

 _Yes, do that_ was Yuuri’s first thought.

 _How can you say that if you’ve ever looked in a mirror your whole life_ was the second.

He said neither out loud.

Viktor was smiling softly at him. More and more of his smiles were real these days. All of them were directed at Yuuri.

“I’m glad you still think so,” Yuuri finally said, recalling one of Viktor’s more coherent moments during his sickness. _You’re pretty_ , he’d said, fever-bright eyes set on Yuuri.

The Viktor of the present frowned in confusion, tilting his head to the side.

“Still?”

“You called me pretty before too, back when you were sick and drifting in and out of consciousness. It’s nice to know you haven’t changed your mind.”

Stunned disbelief painted Viktor’s face before it morphed into a distinctly pleased expression, his mouth curving into a small, shy smile. The tips of his ears were pink again, a sight that never failed to make Yuuri simultaneously happy and hungry.

“Sounds like I had good taste even when I was that out of it. Or maybe your prettiness was too potent for even my ill self to ignore.”

Yuuri snorted and shook his head.

“You’re a ridiculous man, Viktor.”

“You like it though.”

It was almost, but not quite, a question. Yuuri clarified anyway.

“I like everything about you.”

The pink had brightened into a clear red. Yuuri wanted to lick at it and see if it would stain his tongue.

“What else did I say?” Viktor asked, clearly interested.

“A lot but most of it was in Russian. There was some French and English too but it was meaningless gibberish from what I could tell. We had a few conversations but you seemed to forget them each time you woke up.”

“I still don’t remember.”

“I know.”

“But Yuuri, details!”

“You’re really that curious about what you said while your temperature was competing with a bonfire?”

Viktor’s answering expression somehow managed to be both pleading and demanding at once. That took skill.

Yuuri caved, as he always did.

“Well the first time you woke up, you almost laughed at me for trying to spoonfeed you. I’m sure you would have laughed if you’d had the energy. You asked me who I was but didn’t care at all about the answer. And then there was this one time when you hugged me around the waist and called me Makka.”

Yuuri knew the second the words left his lips that it was the wrong thing to say.

There was an instant when Viktor’s face _crumpled_ but then it was gone, that split-second of devastation replaced by a careful nothingness that was somehow more striking than all the other times Yuuri had seen Viktor shove aside his emotions. It was also worse than any scream.

Yuuri was torn between the conflicting impulses of pulling Viktor into his arms to comfort and taking his face between his palms to see it better.

It wasn’t that he actually liked it when Viktor was hurting. But Yuuri’s fascination with this man extended to anything and everything about him. He couldn’t quite choose what he wanted to do so he tried for a compromise.

“Viktor,” he called, sliding closer to him on the couch. Viktor didn’t even seem to hear him. “Should I not have said that?”

There was heavy silence as Viktor said nothing. Yuuri doubted if he’d even heard. But then Viktor spoke, so quietly that Yuuri might not have caught it had he been human.

“It’s fine.”

Clearly, it was not.

“No, it’s not.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Alright.”

Viktor was pulled taut like a string when Yuuri touched him, the muscles of his shoulder locked so tight that it had to have hurt. But he didn’t flinch away and Yuuri didn’t have the self-control to leave him alone to his grief.

He carefully put his arm around Viktor, used to how the same body that often melted against him could go so rigid. Viktor was looking down at his own lap, all thin lips and angry eyes. It was better than the blankness of before.

Yuuri said nothing because he had no words to offer and instead just held Viktor as best as he could.

He waited.

It took longer than usual but eventually, the tension left Viktor’s body, this time in one big rush that left him sagging against Yuuri with a wounded sound caught in his throat.

Viktor spoke first.

“You know, I haven’t been like this with anyone who wasn’t a lover.”

Yuuri was no master conversationalist but he could detect a desperate attempt to change the subject from miles away. He petted Viktor’s hair and played along.

“I never acted like this with my lovers. Or anyone. You’re the first.”

This time, it was the right thing to say because Viktor’s expression when he looked up at Yuuri was a wonder on its own. There was no smile, just a tentative joy that was terrifying in its openness.

This man could ruin Yuuri.

Yuuri could ruin this man.

He pressed his face to the top of Viktor’s head and _breathed_.

 

* * *

 

True to his word, Viktor kept wearing Yuuri’s clothes along with his own. Day after day found him clad in slightly ill-fitting garments that he wore with all the poise of a king. Some days, he mixed Yuuri’s clothes with his own, creating mismatched outfits that inevitably ended up suiting him.

It was a delight to Yuuri’s eyes but the original problem stubbornly remained. Some of Viktor’s favorite Yuuri clothes had started to smell more human than vampire and it was hell on Yuuri’s appetite.

He took to holding his breath while in the house, which was swiftly becoming saturated with Viktor’s scent, and inhaling only when he needed to speak. He cheated sometimes, unable to resist a greedy lungful of delicious Viktor.

It was a struggle to not take Viktor by the hair and latch onto his neck each time the human was in Yuuri’s sight. It was worse when Viktor was draped all over him, smelling like the most scrumptious meal to ever have lived.

Yuuri even tried, exactly once, to avoid Viktor. He spent the morning at the beach and locked himself in his library once the sun got too much. He lasted until the afternoon and then he was in Viktor’s bedroom, right in time to greet him as he groggily detached himself from the bed for a late lunch.

It had taken more restraint than Yuuri even knew he was capable of to hold back from making Viktor into his own late lunch.

In short, he had a very big problem.

It was one thing to snack on strangers, muddle their memories, and then send them on their way. He couldn’t do that to Viktor who was living with him full-time and already familiar enough with Yuuri to put any kind of memory manipulation out of the question. Yuuri had managed to get away with feeding on him in the early days only because he had been insensible from his fever.

Now he wanted to regret those feedings for making his current situation even worse but even the slightly faded memory of how divine Viktor had tasted chased those regrets away.

Yuuri’s problem wasn’t that he didn’t want to drink from Viktor. It was that he couldn’t.

In his more fanciful moments, he imagined saying _Hey, Viktor, I’m a slightly starved vampire who would really appreciate it if you could lend me a vein_. He’d get a chuckle out of the thoughts and maybe an odd look from the human in question if he was present. At least Viktor didn’t seem to think anything was wrong when Yuuri spent long minutes just staring at his neck. The two of them spent so much time looking at each other that anything of the kind was automatically passed off as normal.

The wise thing to do would be to do what he always did; take the last train to Fukuoka, find someone to eat, spend the night, return in the early morning while the sun was still bearable. It had worked perfectly for the nineteen months he’d been in Hasetsu.

But that had been when he was living by himself, unlike the present where doing that meant leaving Viktor alone for a night with some flimsy excuse. He could do it – he had to – but the very prospect left a bad taste in his mouth. Yuuri had spent centuries’ worth of nights with no Viktor by his side but logic of that sort held no sway with the fierce wanting in his veins. There were days when he was reluctant to go to work because that time would be better spent watching Viktor sleep or breathe or gaze dreamily into space.

Minako would laugh if she saw him now. Had she been her more generous past self, she'd even have arranged for Yuuri to take Viktor somewhere where they could do nothing but bask in each other’s existence.

The idea had merit, if only as a fantasy.

Reality however demanded that he set aside his reservations and get on the train. And until then, he had to control himself well enough to not make a full course meal out of his housemate. Not that Viktor made that easy, what with–

“Yuuri!” Warm arms wrapped around his waist and a chin settled on his shoulder, digging slightly. “Why are you just standing here, looking at nothing?”

–all the touching.

He smelled _so good_.

“Thinking,” Yuuri bit out and then promptly held his breath. That didn’t stop him from feeling Viktor’s warmth. He could push him away.

He would never.

“About what?” Viktor’s fingers were tracing absent patterns over Yuuri’s stomach. It was like he got more and more handsy with each passing day. Not that Yuuri did anything to stop it. At the moment though, it was as frustrating as it was pleasing.

“You,” he answered half-honestly. Viktor’s silence somehow managed to be happy. Yuuri’s mouth twitched up in spite of himself.

Viktor rubbed his cheek against Yuuri’s and flinched away with a soft sound of surprise.

“Yuuri, your skin feels so cold! Well, you always seem cold to me but this is... Are you alright?”

Yuuri tensed. He was colder than usual? That wasn’t a good sign. He bet that he was paler than usual too. How long would it be before his eyes bled red? How had he not noticed?

“I’m fine, Viktor. I’ll warm up soon.”

“Mm, okay.”

He had to go today. No excuses.

“Hey, Yuuri, will you read something to me tonight? I can’t really concentrate when I try these days but I think I’d like to listen to you.”

He could refuse. He should refuse.

“Yes. Of course.”

One more day. Yuuri could last one more day.

Tomorrow. No excuses.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri’s shifts at the Ice Castle were always uneventful. The mornings were the busy times when Yuuko taught beginner’s classes. There were a few others who popped up throughout the day, most of them regulars who skated for fun and knew what they were doing. There were always only a few people on the ice whenever Yuuri showed up in the afternoon and by the time he locked up at night, he would be alone in the building.

He didn’t mind; the opposite actually. He’d only taken the job because it seemed a good change of pace from haunting the halls of his house. And it was, especially since he didn’t have to interact much with people. Occasionally, someone showed up requesting that Yuuri help them skate. Most times, he turned them away, citing that his own skills on the ice were limited.

It wasn’t a lie. He couldn’t do anything fancy and didn’t have much of an interest. The last thing he needed to do was land a jump with too much force and crack the rink.

Still, there was something very relaxing about mindlessly cutting lines into the ice as his mind drifted.

And that was exactly what he was doing, skating in circles and trying not to think about the burn in his throat, when the boy showed up.

Well, more young man than boy, with an unruly mop of dark hair and a clean-shaven face that was ever so slightly familiar.

“Welcome to Ice Castle Hasetsu,” Yuuri intoned mechanically. “How may I help you?”

The human blushed for no reason.

“H-hi! I didn’t know you worked here.”

“…Do I know you?”

“Oh, uh, no, you probably don’t. I’ve seen you around sometimes. Usually at Yu-topia? I go there a lot with my dad. And you showed up where I work a while back. To buy medicine? Not that you remember. Of course you don’t, never mind.”

The small laugh that followed was more nervous than amused.

The mention of medicine did jolt Yuuri’s memory only because it had been his sole trip to that area. This one had smiled at him then too, a little too bright to be just customer service. Years of hunting had attuned Yuuri’s senses to when a human was blatantly interested in him. And this one screamed interest.

Yuuri smiled, made it sweet and inviting.

“I do remember actually. I thought you looked familiar.”

Yuuri smiled because had a great and terrible idea.

He skated over to the barrier, breathing deep as he neared the beaming human. He smelled nice, not as good as Viktor but appealing enough for Yuuri’s stomach to clench in anticipation.

“So, first time here?”

He never hunted where he lived. That way had led to pitchforks and stakings once.

But exceptions could be made.

“Ah, not really? I came with a couple of friends a week ago but I didn’t touch the ice, just watched. I wanted to come back and try when there would be less people to see me fall.”

He blushed again. Yuuri licked his lips.

“That’s fine. I’ll help you. Let’s get you some skates first.”

Soon, Yuuri found himself holding hands with the human – _“My name is Hirose Daiki. Nice to meet you!” “Katsuki Yuuri. Hold on to me now, Hirose-kun.”_ – as the latter wobbled on rental skates and tried to crush Yuuri’s fingers.

Daiki seemed to enjoy himself if only for the way each of his near falls gave him an opportunity to clutch Yuuri closer. It wasn’t really a fun time for Yuuri because each time Daiki brushed against him reminded him sharply of the hunger clawing at his insides, barely restrained now that the prospect of food was so close.

He could deal with it. After all, Daiki didn’t compare to the unearthly temptation Viktor presented.

Daiki tired before long though he seemed reluctant to get off the ice until he was falling more than he was skating. Even after, he lingered, fidgeting slightly and shooting surreptitious looks at Yuuri.

“I’m free at eight,” Yuuri finally said, fully committed now. “You can pick me up.”

The human seemed too stunned to ask for details which was good since Yuuri himself didn’t know them. He usually stuck to dark alleys or cheap hotel rooms but that wouldn’t cut it here. He couldn’t take Daiki to his house since Viktor was there – not that he’d be in this situation in the first place had Viktor not been there. The beach seemed to be his best bet even though the thought of eating in such an open space made his skin crawl.

A healthy dose of paranoia didn’t hurt anyone.

But he had little choice here.

In the end, it was the very source of his dilemma that solved it for him.

 _Out to get groceries!_ read Viktor’s text, accompanied by a neat row of tiny yellow faces. It was five minutes to eight.

Viktor didn’t like to leave the house and the couple of times he had, he’d waited for it to be late enough for his rather distinctive appearance to blend into the darkness. His timing had never been more fortuitous.

Yuuri wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, not when he was so thirsty that he almost had Daiki on Ice Castle’s floor.

“Uh, where are we going?” Daiki asked, approximately ten minutes after Yuuri had started pulling him in the direction of his house.

“My place.”

“Oh. I – I mean, that’s –”

Yuuri wanted to tell him that they weren’t actually going to have sex but that was also the safest impression to give. Instead, he whirled around and pulled the human to him, catching his mouth in a brief but firm kiss.

“You can say no if you want,” Yuuri offered, meaning not a word.

 _I’m really, really hungry and you’re my only hope since there isn’t a bar in sight_ \- he managed to make that into a feeling and nudge it at Daiki. It was weak, compulsion always working better once the human had been fed on, but it was enough when Daiki already wanted Yuuri so transparently.

Maybe he wanted a date more than sex but Yuuri preferred a straightforward modus operandi. He wasn’t Minako.

“No, Daiki murmured, smiling dazedly at Yuuri. “Let’s go.”

Yuuri grinned with a little too much teeth.

His house was dark and empty when they got there but Yuuri could smell Viktor in the air inside and it made his whole body burn, yearning for the splash of hot blood down his throat.

Just for now, Viktor’s absence was welcome.

Daiki was on him the moment the lights were on, kissing Yuuri with an urgency that was echoed down below as their bodies pressed together. Yuuri kissed back, mind on more pertinent matters, and slowly backed his prey into the closest wall.

He didn’t have time for the lust-filled look of appreciation Daiki gave him.

The human’s neck was soft and warm under his lips, just begging to be bitten as Daiki arched into the touch. Yuuri kissed the racing flutter of his pulse, reared back, and plunged his teeth into the side of his neck.

Daiki shuddered with a shocked groan. Yuuri barely noticed.

There was hot blood in his mouth, spilling down his throat and down to the pit of his belly, spreading to his every pore and soothing his ravenous hunger even as it spurred it on. He sucked hard at the wounds, one hand buried in the human’s hair to keep his neck bared and the other firmly holding him in place. Not that he needed to when the man was already deep under the influence, moaning and squirming against Yuuri, pushing into the very mouth that drained his life out of him.

Yuuri sucked even harder with a moan of his own. He felt as if he could cry with relief.

He hadn’t known he was this hungry. He hadn’t known he was this cold until human blood flooded his body with borrowed warmth.

In the happy haze of sated thirst, he didn’t even hear the door opening.

He didn’t hear Viktor either, not until there was a dull thud, a sharp gasp and a shockingly familiar voice crying, “ _Yuuri!_ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Yuuri without any moral concerns in _hard._ I keep automatically trying to make him care about that before remembering that the whole point of vampires in this world is that they don’t comprehend morality. For instance, that scene with Viktor wearing Yuuri’s clothes. I almost made Yuuri assure Viktor was he wasn’t obliged to do it just because Yuuri said so before remembering that Yuuri wouldn’t care about that. Jfc.
> 
> Btw, Yuuri referring to people by their first names in his head is deliberate. I’ll try to work in why into the story but probably, I’ll just tack on a note at some point.
> 
> Sources:  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chikuhi_Line  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fukuoka  
> https://www.virail.com/train-karatsu-fukuoka 
> 
> Google Maps is a godsend


	4. left you love notes on their headstones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor finds out a shocking truth. Unfortunately, Yuuri is not adept at crisis management.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone want to see Yuuri epically fail to human? Well, you’re in the right place.
> 
> Seriously, this whole chapter is one big "Yuuri, no."

The tight knot in Viktor’s chest loosened and dissipated as Yuuri’s home came into view. It wasn’t that he disliked the rest of Hasetsu. It was a perfectly nice town, pretty and homely. But after spending so long in the comforting confines of Yuuri’s remote house, venturing outside was more than a little daunting. He never quite forgot Yuuri mentioning the ice rink and the manager who was his fan, and while the chances of running into a figure skating enthusiast in the streets well into the night was unlikely at best, he just couldn’t shake the fear that it might happen.

It was so nice to be here with Yuuri who saw him as just Viktor, the Russian guy who used to be good at skating, and not acknowledge the rest of the world. Sometimes, he thought that he could spend the rest of his life just knowing Yuuri, touching Yuuri, and being known and touched in return.

He didn’t care that he was so attached to a man he’d met through the most wretched circumstances and stuck with due to little sense and lot of desperation. It felt good to be with Yuuri and Viktor really just wanted to feel good for a while.

He could see a light inside when he got closer and a smile touched his lips almost without his knowing. It was rare that Viktor got to come home to Yuuri.

He knew Yuuri wouldn’t be expecting him since he had forgotten to even send the message about his whereabouts until he was on his way back from the store and started worrying that Yuuri would panic at the sight of an empty house. He was probably expecting Viktor to be a while yet. That was fine, he liked that he could surprise Yuuri.

He had grown tired of being surprises a long time ago but Yuuri brought a spark to many things Viktor believed to have dulled.

Viktor yanked the door open with a bright grin but the _I’m home_ died on his lips at the sight that greeted him.

Yuuri was with someone.

Yuuri was _with_ someone, his arms and mouth on a stranger.

The air reverberated with the sounds of their pleasure.

The devastation that washed over him may not have made sense because he and Yuuri weren’t anything, not really, but Viktor had been so sure they had something, that Yuuri looked at Viktor the same way Viktor looked at Yuuri.

The grocery bag slipped from his suddenly numb fingers. Between the dull thud of it hitting the floor and the helpless, plaintive call that left his own lips, Viktor saw it.

A thin trail of blood trickling down the side of the stranger’s neck and staining the collar of his snow white shirt.

Then Yuuri raised his face and all Viktor could see was red; red eyes, red lips, red teeth, redredredred–

A pitiful noise escaped him, Yuuri’s name caught in his throat and strangled.

Red eyes bore into him, bright and livid and so very different from the warm brown he adored.

Yuuri detached himself from the stranger – a man, Viktor noted absently, young and unremarkable – who slumped down on the floor, panting loud enough for even Viktor to hear.

“Viktor.”

Was Yuuri’s voice always this deep, this dark?

This dangerous?

“Viktor,” Yuuri called again, staring at him with an unreadable expression. He stared right back, frozen in the open doorway. He couldn’t make his tongue work in his mouth, couldn’t make his legs move to run, couldn’t even make his eyes close to pretend all of this was a dream.

He could only look at Yuuri and think in circles.

Red eyes, red lips, red teeth – no, red _fangs_. Yuuri was – Yuuri.

His eyes stung and he blinked. There was a flash of red in the momentary darkness.

Yuuri was there suddenly, his face inches away from Viktor’s. His eyes were still red. He smelled like rust, like blood.

Viktor trembled.

“Viktor,” Yuuri breathed. His fingers were on Viktor’s face, cold but not as much as usual. His touch was tender and Viktor lurched into it even as something small and primal in his brain screamed at him to run, run, run and never look back.

Yuuri framed his face with both hands and Viktor couldn’t see anything but the gleaming crimson of his eyes.

“Ah, Viktor, you’re in shock. That’s good. I don’t want you to run and I don’t want you to panic. Can you stay here, just like this, until I return?”

Viktor nodded, mildly startled to feel his head move.

“Good. Don’t move an inch. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Yes, it would be bad if Yuuri hurt him. Viktor nodded again, feeling dazed. Was he coming down with something again? Would Yuuri take care of him like last time?

He stood rooted to the spot, watching as Yuuri went back to the man on the floor. Despite everything, Viktor had to bite back a sound of displeasure when Yuuri took the man’s face in his hands like he’d just done to Viktor. But Yuuri should only do that to Viktor. The man wasn’t even that handsome. Viktor was handsome, everyone said so.

Yuuri should be looking at him, red eyes and all, and – and crooning in Japanese?

Viktor didn’t understand what Yuuri said but he saw the other man, the imposter, nod with a dopey smile and too-wide eyes. He tilted his head back and Yuuri licked him, and this time, Viktor couldn’t hold back the wordless protest that left his lips. Yuuri pulled back and looked at Viktor. There was an intensity to his gaze that made him shiver.

Yuuri said something again in his mother tongue and though his eyes were still on Viktor, it was the other man that moved. He got up and without a word, walked towards the door where Viktor blocked his way.

“You can move to let him through, Viktor,” Yuuri said. Viktor’s legs obeyed even with no real input from his brain.

Then the third man was gone and it was just Yuuri and Viktor and Viktor still couldn’t move, only watch as Yuuri came and closed the door, trapping Viktor in the room with him.

Strange that he knew he was trapped but couldn’t find the urge to run. He had to keep looking at Yuuri and stay put.

Yuuri touched his face again, sliding his palm over his cheeks and through the edges of his hair to curl around the back of his neck. His grip was cool and tight. Viktor knew instinctively that there was no escape. He didn’t want to escape.

Why didn’t he want to escape?

“You’re more affected than I thought,” Yuuri murmured, gazing deep into Viktor’s eyes. “Either all that blood got to my head or you’re exceptionally weak to this.” He smiled, a different kind than the ones he usually gave Viktor but still strangely familiar. “Or maybe you’re just weak to me.”

Viktor tried to answer but barely managed a grunt.

“What should I do with you, Viktor? I know the protocol but… I still want to keep you with me. I’m going to let you go now. Don’t run, okay? It won’t end well.”

Yuuri’s hands slipped from Viktor’s neck but it was the sudden absence of the pressure in his mind, the pressure he hadn’t even noticed, that made his knees buckle. He fell forward with a yelp but Yuuri caught him and held him until he found his balance.

Viktor leapt away from him, plastering himself against the closed door.

All of this felt like a surreal dream. He’d very much like to wake up. But Yuuri was still in front of him, eyes glowing unnaturally and with a stray speck of liquid red on his bottom lip. As Viktor watched, a pink tongue swiped at the – the _blood_. Yuuri sighed.

“Viktor, are you going to freak out?”

“You’re a vampire,” Viktor forced himself to say. The term hung ridiculously in the air but Yuuri was unfazed.

“Yes. I’d say I’m sorry you found out this way but honestly, I’m still finding it hard to accept that you found out at all. My own fault. I got careless.”

That wasn’t what Viktor wanted to hear at all. The part of him – a small, supremely illogical part – that was hoping Yuuri would laugh it off and label the whole thing an enormous prank died a quiet death.

“Yuuri…” Viktor couldn’t help the pleading note in his voice. He didn’t want this. He’d been so happy these past two weeks.

As if he’d been waiting for a sign, Yuuri moved right in front of Viktor, caging him against the door. He wasn’t being particularly threatening but the image of him with blood on his mouth was fresh in Viktor’s mind and he couldn’t help but raise his hands to shove Yuuri away. They made it as far as Yuuri’s shoulders before they stopped, clutching at him rather than pushing.

“Are you scared?” Yuuri asked him. He was frowning, looking almost worried.

“Of course I am,” Viktor said and then stopped. Was he? Sure, there was a wailing alarm in his brain that demanded he run as fast as possible from Yuuri but there was something oddly alien about that thought. Viktor felt no real desire to follow through. He wanted answers, not a way out.

He didn’t want to leave Yuuri.

“I –” he started and then stopped, not knowing what to say.

“It’s fine,” Yuuri murmured soothingly. The uncanny glow of his eyes had dimmed somewhat. “It’s natural for people to react like that to us. I’m impressed you didn’t even try to get away. Do you want to run, Viktor, or do you want to stay with me?”

There was no hesitation when he answered.

“I want to stay.”

He had not made one logical decision when it came to Yuuri and he didn’t see why he should start now. He wasn’t sure if he could.

There was something greatly gratifying about the naked surprise on Yuuri’s face at his answer.

“Really?”

“I want answers. I – god, Yuuri, until now, I didn’t even know vampires existed.”

“Oh, you weren’t supposed to. That’s the point.”

Yuuri sounded almost giddy as he spoke. There was a slowly widening smile on his face and Viktor watched, fascinated, as it grew into a bright, toothy grin that lit up his whole face. There was even the faintest hint of pink on his cheeks, something Viktor had never seen. He had always believed Yuuri was just that unflappable. Now he thought back to the man whose blood Yuuri had drunk and wondered if it was more likely that Yuuri didn’t have any blood of his own to blush with.

It wasn’t pleasant to imagine that man’s blood in Yuuri.

“Will he be okay?” Viktor asked before he could stop himself. “The guy you…”

“Ate? Yes, he’ll be fine. He won’t remember much of this evening but his mind will make up some excuse for it.”

“Did you do that? Mess with his mind?”

“Yes.”

That was a terrifying thought.

“It’s better than killing him, isn’t it?” Yuuri said as if he could read Viktor’s mind. Could he?

“Can you read my mind?”

It was sad that Viktor couldn’t appreciate Yuuri’s laughter as much as he usually would.

“No, Viktor. My influence on you is limited as we are.”

The implication that that could change was loud and clear.

“If I… if I run, would you do that to me? Erase my memories?”

Viktor didn’t want that, didn’t want to forget his brief time with Yuuri.

“No, Viktor. You’ve been with me too long. I can’t mess with your mind to that extent.”

“Then, what would you–”

Viktor stopped abruptly, knowing the answer even before Yuuri spoke.

_I don’t want to hurt you._

“If you ran, Viktor, I’d have to kill you.” Yuuri leaned in until their foreheads were pressed together. Viktor closed his eyes. “I’d be kinder than the ocean.”

He shuddered hard, fingers digging into Yuuri’s shoulders.

“Yuuri, please–”

“Ssh, of course I won’t do that. You’re not running, are you? Come, let’s sit down and talk. I’ll answer all the questions you have.”

Yuuri pulled back, taking Viktor’s hands in his.

Viktor allowed him to tug him into the living room, his blood hot and cold with the knowledge that this was the point of no return.

 

* * *

 

The silence between them was awkward in a way it hadn’t been since that first day. Viktor was seated on the couch, his posture perfect enough to make even Lilia proud rather than sprawled all over the thing like usual. Yuuri sat opposite him, armchair pulled close so he could reach out and touch Viktor if he so wished.

He could also easily stop Viktor if he tried to escape.

There was no chance of him even trying though. Where would he go? How far would he make it before Yuuri caught him?

“Would you really kill me?” is what slipped from his mouth, pushing past the million other questions churning in his head.

It still felt ridiculous to think that Yuuri of all people could – would – kill him. Yuuri was nice and caring and infinitely patient, sweetly letting Viktor into his life, giving him space and attention both, and making him feel as if he belonged here beside Yuuri.

The threat didn’t feel real, not when the Yuuri now sitting across from him seemed to be the same kind, brown-eyed beauty Viktor was besotted with.

“I don’t want to,” Yuuri replied after a lengthy pause. There was a faint frown on his face and his eyes never once strayed from Viktor. “I’m…very desperate to avoid it. I’m not supposed to be doing this but you’re – I mean I–”

He tsked, pure frustration coloring the sound, and lunged forward with a speed that gave Viktor no time to react. But Yuuri did nothing but gather both of Viktor’s hands in his own and stare even more deeply into his eyes.

“You’re important to me. Human or not, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I don’t know what to call that feeling, Viktor, but I know I don’t want to let you go.”

Warmth crawled up Viktor’s neck and he wondered what about him was so fundamentally wrong that he was _touched_ by a vampire’s declaration of possessive fervor.

It wasn’t love. He knew that. Viktor didn’t love Yuuri either.

But he could, easily. That hadn’t changed in the course of the last several minutes and that was more terrifying than anything Yuuri could do to him.

“I believe you,” Viktor murmured, twisting his fingers to tangle them with Yuuri’s. “But that doesn’t tell me what you plan to do with me.”

Yuuri had the audacity to look surprised.

“Do with you? What would I do with you?”

Everything from his expression to his voice was so painfully genuine that it was Viktor’s turn to gape.

“Yuuri, I just found out you’re not human. You said you’d kill me if I tried to run. Whether or not you want to, I’m pretty sure you can do it. So where does that leave us?”

Yuuri tilted his head to the side, looking so much like a confused Makk – a confused puppy that Viktor had to let out a strained chuckle.

“I thought I’d answer your questions and we’d go back to the way we were before. Except now, I don’t have to pretend to eat with you sometimes because honestly, Viktor, I’m sure you’re a good cook but human food tastes like nothing to me and it always comes back the way it went in. I’m sure you can imagine how unpleasant that is.”

This time, Viktor’s laughter was louder and considerably more incredulous. He didn’t even know how to process everything Yuuri just said so he started with the easiest part.

“Is that why you usually avoided eating with me? And why you looked like you were walking to the gallows whenever you did? I thought it was because you couldn’t stand Russian and Western food. Yuuri, I’ve been looking up Japanese recipes on the internet so I could cook for you!”

His voice had devolved into a shrill shout by the end, the note of hysteria audible even to himself.

But Yuuri just beamed like Viktor had given him the greatest gift ever.

“You would have done that for me? That’s so sweet, Viktor.”

His smile was so blindingly happy that for one instant, Viktor considered not telling him he was missing the damn point.

Wait, what was the point again?

Ah, yes, Viktor’s humanity and Yuuri’s lack of it.

Clearly, Yuuri had no idea what Viktor was trying to ask so it was better to just come out and say it.

“Are you planning to eat me, Yuuri?”

Yuuri blushed.

It was faint, the lightest of pinks staining his cheeks, and Viktor was somehow certain that it was Yuuri’s recent…meal…that was making it possible.

“Would you like that?” Yuuri asked, voice so light that Viktor only barely heard him. He immediately wished he hadn’t because that made him think about it and the ensuing mental imagine thoroughly killed the instinctive _No!_ on the tip of his tongue.

His neck tingled.

Viktor couldn’t stop remembering the vague dreams that had been plaguing him, always a more welcome sight than the nightmares of the past but frustrating nonetheless because of the way they left him aching in places he didn’t know existed and vainly grasping at a vision that always remained out of reach.

Something – someone – looming over him, fire in his blood and a wanting in his veins.

Viktor was many things, most of them facades, but he was not a fool.

“You’ve done it before,” he choked out, too shocked to be horrified.

Yuuri’s blush had vanished and he only seemed mildly abashed at being caught.

“Ah, yes. It was in the early days when you were really sick. I was sure you wouldn’t remember though.”

“I don’t,” Viktor replied, reeling. His body was frozen in spot, his hands still in Yuuri’s. This time, he couldn’t even blame Yuuri’s mind mojo for it.

“Oh, did you guess?”

“I have dreams. Indistinct ones. I just put two and two together.”

Yuuri nodded as if this made perfect sense.

“I guess I was pretty obvious about it.”

And just like that, Viktor was confused again. Were they even having the same conversation?

“Obvious about what?”

“About how much I want to drink your blood again? I know I’m always staring at your neck. It makes sense that you’d figure it out now that you know what I am.”

There was a hesitant, sheepish smile on Yuuri’s face. He even ducked his head a little, blind to Viktor’s wide-eyed shock at his confession.

Yuuri had drunk his blood. Yuuri still wanted to drink his blood.

Sweet, pretty Yuuri wanted to _eat_ Viktor.

“Yes and yes,” answered Yuuri and Viktor realized he’d said all that out loud. “Also, I’ve told you many times how I’m not as nice as you think. When I said you could find something horrifying about me, this was what I meant! Though obviously, I never expected you to actually find out. And don’t make it sound like I’m going to drain you into a bloodless husk. I have better control than that.”

The realization dawned, swift and staggering, that Yuuri actually had no idea what Viktor was trying to tell him.

The potential murder, the blood drinking, this whole conversation – none of it held the same weight to Yuuri as it did to Viktor. He was treating it as just another of their late night talks. If anything, he seemed relieved that Viktor now knew the truth and wasn’t trying to run away.

Viktor was, in some distant corner of his mind, still hoping this was all one wild dream but to Yuuri, this was mundane reality.

He couldn’t do this.

Viktor stood up so suddenly that Yuuri fell back into his chair, startled and puzzled.

“Viktor?”

“I’m going to bed,” Viktor mumbled, already two steps to the door. “I’m going to sleep on this and not go crazy and tomorrow, we’ll sit down and have an actual conversation.”

“Vik–”

He was out of the room before Yuuri could finish the name.

 

* * *

 

Sleep evaded him.

It was ironic that he’d spent weeks doing little else but indulge in the lethargy that persistently haunted his mind and body only to find it absent the one time he badly needed it.

His thoughts were a muddled mess, slipping from one thread to another without giving him time to linger on any. Most of them were about Yuuri, divided into two neat segments – the Yuuri of now and the Yuuri until this afternoon. They were the same but to Viktor, they felt like two wholly different people.

He pushed his face into a pillow and screwed his eyes shut, willing himself to sleep.

Eyes both brown and red danced in his vision, their shape the same but the intent wholly different.

He’d pegged Yuuri as a slightly weird man who was a little shy and a lot kind. It was hard to reconcile that image of him with a storybook monster.

Vampires. Bats and fangs and fog and sparkles came to mind. Yuuri had so far sported only one of those.

Had he ever known Yuuri at all?

Yuuri who’d said Viktor was important to him and then in the same breath discussed his murder.

Viktor had skipped dinner again. The groceries were probably still on the floor. He’d been planning to make some rice for Yuuri in the hopes that he’d like it better than Viktor’s previous attempts at cooking. But Yuuri couldn’t taste it. All this time, he’d humored Viktor and forced down things he’d have to throw up later.

Yuuri had drunk Viktor’s blood while he had been utterly, involuntarily at his mercy. He hadn’t even apologized.

His neck prickled again and he cupped his palm over the side of it. He tried to imagine Yuuri bent over him, teeth sunk in his throat, Viktor limp in his arms – the vision came far too easily and brought with it another torrent of conflicting feelings.

“Fuck,” he hissed, opening his eyes and shooting upright.

Sleep wasn’t happening. He was doomed to fret over Yuuri with scattered thoughts.

“Are you upset?”

Viktor shrieked and flinched away, heart in this throat. He gawked at the darkness beside the bed where a shadowed shape slowly came into focus. 

“When did you get here?”

The shadow blurred and suddenly, the light was on, stinging Viktor’s eyes. When he opened them again, Yuuri was back by the bed, gazing down at him with an impassive expression.

“I didn’t understand until you left,” Yuuri told him. “That you might be upset, I mean.”

“When did you get here?” Viktor repeated woodenly. He couldn’t fathom how to even begin to address what Yuuri just told him.

“About ten minutes after you.”

“I didn’t hear you.” _Or feel you_. Had he really been standing there all this time while Viktor remained unaware despite being wholly awake?

Yuuri just shrugged and made as if to sit down, only to pause and straighten with a sharp look at Viktor.

“It’s your bed, Yuuri.”

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. Or…scared.”

“I’m not scared,” he said automatically and then paused to actually examine that claim.

He was surprised to find that it was still somehow true. Yuuri didn’t scare him. But God, did he confound him.

“I’m just very confused. I don’t understand, Yuuri. I thought I knew you or at least had a good idea about you but now, I don’t know what to think.”

Yuuri sat down on the edge of the bed, torso turned towards Viktor. He looked thoughtful.

“You didn’t know about the most fundamental part of me, Viktor. Of course you couldn’t know me that way.” Yuuri said it calmly without even a hint of accusation but Viktor felt it like a blow anyway. “I’m not good at this. Playing human, it – I can’t do it. Some of my kind can manage but I’m just me. People are hard for me unless I’m hunting. I was sure you’d flee from here the first time I slipped up but you stayed even after all these days. And just now, you didn’t act like I expect from humans so I thought… I thought we had something special.”

And Yuuri said that so plaintively, mouth downturned and eyes shuttered, that Viktor had no choice but to say what he did.

“We did. We do. At least I think so.”

Viktor ached to see the hope blooming on Yuuri’s face.

“Really?”

He nodded with a small smile of his own.

“Yes, really. But Yuuri, I don’t think you understand how absolutely stunned I am to hear the same man who fed me and drew me baths and cared for me so tenderly that I thought he was a dream I conjured up tell me that he drank my blood while I was unconscious and actually considered killing me. You – you don’t even seem to feel bad about it!”

The flood of words left Viktor a little winded. The tiny part of his mind not wholly preoccupied with Yuuri’s reaction noted that he hadn’t felt this strongly about anything in ages. Not since that third consecutive gold sweep.

Yuuri was looking down on the bed, frowning deeply.

“I won’t say I understand,” he said finally, looking up but not quite meeting Viktor’s eyes. “My mind – any vampire’s mind – works differently. I can logically follow why you feel those things but I can’t _understand_. I get that you expect me to feel bad for feeding on you without permission but I don’t. I can’t. And, Viktor, I know it’s not much but please know that I never really considered killing you. I said the words, yes, but the actual action…it feels as alien as letting you go. I don’t want to lose you even to death.”

Viktor, who’d been listening intently to every word Yuuri said, took his time digesting them. The way Yuuri acted before made much for sense in the light of this new information.

“You don’t have any morals?” he asked after a while. “Or empathy?”

Yuuri gave a little half-shrug.

“Something like that, yeah. I haven’t really thought about it. It’s always been this way.”

“You’ve always been a vampire?”

“No, I was human once. But I don’t remember how that felt.”

“Oh. Okay.”

There was more silence, less tense this time. Viktor was aware of Yuuri’s gaze clinging to him.

“You don’t feel bad for drinking my blood because it’s in your nature. Humans are prey to you, not people.” Saying as much out loud made it disconcertingly real but at the same time, it made something in him settle. “And you don’t want to kill me not because it would be wrong or because you think my life is worth anything but because you personally don’t wish to see me die.”

It was rather comical, the way Yuuri’s eyes had widened.

“Wow,” Viktor chucked lightly. “You were right. You really are selfish.”

Yuuri grimaced but didn’t deny it.

“Yes. You are though. People. I mean, person. To me. Prey too but also a person. A very important person.”

Viktor blinked, taken aback.

“That’s… you’ve only known me for two weeks.”

“So?” Yuuri challenged. “You’re as attached as I am, aren’t you?”

And well, it wasn’t like Viktor could deny that. It was evident in the way he didn’t want to leave Yuuri in spite of all this.

“What are we doing, Yuuri?” he asked a little helplessly.

“I know as much as you.” And then Yuuri smiled, timidly but so happily that Viktor couldn’t breathe for a moment. “But Viktor, this is the most alive I’ve felt in years.”

He gasped, an electric shiver going through him as Yuuri voiced the very words that Viktor had thought so many times since meeting him.

He didn’t say _Me too_ but the smile he offered Yuuri was wholly sincere.

“I need some time to think. I’m not going anywhere–” _Could_ he? “–but this is all a lot. And I have questions. I think I want to sleep on it. So tomorrow?”

“Alone tonight?”

“I – yeah. Yes. For tonight, that’d be best.”

Yuuri nodded briskly and stood up, clearly planning to leave.

“Wait! I’m not sick anymore so I’ll take the couch. Just wake me up when you want to sleep.”

Yuuri’s grin was rueful.

“Ah, about that. I don’t really sleep. Before you came, I’d spent my nights reading or out on the beach.”

It said something about his headspace that Viktor just accepted that with only a moment of surprise. Although, that begged the question–

“What about when I’m here? You’re always with me in the mornings.”

“Oh, I just watched you.”

Viktor stared at Yuuri for a long time until the other man started shifting uncomfortably.

He was…not going to think about this now.

“Good night, Yuuri.”

“G-good night!

 

* * *

 

Morning had been tense so far, Yuuri making himself scarce after Viktor woke up on time for once and went about his business. Even after everything, he felt guilty for making Yuuri do that in his own home. That was why he’d initiated this talk so soon despite secretly wanting to put it off as much as possible for the sake of his poor sanity.

Still, he was curious too and Yuuri, sitting ramrod straight in his chair like a chastised schoolboy, seemed willing enough to indulge that curiosity.

“Are you dead?”

“Yes and no.”

Viktor waited but no other response was forthcoming. He sighed.

“ _Details_ , Yuuri.”

“Oh yes, sorry. I haven’t done this before. And um, you could say I’m in between? The common misconception seems to be that we’re walking corpses but it’s not really true. We did return from death, yes, but our bodies do maintain a measure of life in them. You’ve felt my heartbeat, haven’t you? It’s far slower than that of humans though. And our body temperatures are lower. Hm, what else? Ah, breathing. We don’t need to breathe but we do have to take in air to speak. It also helps us seem normal when we’re out with humans. It’s instinct by this point but I do forget sometimes.”

Viktor had indeed felt Yuuri’s heartbeat. It hadn’t been a conscious thing but he’d woken up with his head on Yuuri’s chest often enough that the absence of one would have been easily noticed. And it was true that while Yuuri was always cool-skinned, it was nothing like the rigid frigidity of a dead body.

Not that Viktor made a habit of feeling up dead bodies.

How had his life ever come to this?

“Why do you drink blood then?”

“Because we get hungry? No, that’s not what you meant. Well, no one knows how it really works but we need human blood to keep this state of reanimation. If we go without it for too long, we actually become more corpse-like. Rabid things that would maul anything in sight. It’s not a pleasant state but we go back to normal once we’re fed. Viktor, you okay? You look pale.”

Yes, because he had enough familiarity with the horror genre to imagine exactly what Yuuri was saying with such nonchalance. Not pleasant was surely an underestimation. He said none of that out loud.

“I’m fine!”

The smile he tried on felt twisted and unnatural even to himself. Yuuri frowned but didn’t call him out on it.

“Alright. If you say so.”

“How often do you…eat?”

His neck was tingling again. Viktor fought the urge to rub at it.

“Once a week is ideal. Limits depend on the person. I can push it to maybe two weeks before the frenzy sets in.”

“Two weeks. Yuuri, I’ve been here that long.”

“Now you know why I choose to feed yesterday.”

“You were sure cutting it close.”

“Uh, not quite. I fed on you about thrice in those two days. That would have kept me going for maybe two more days.”

He froze. It wasn’t that he had forgotten that Yuuri had already drunk his blood. But the casual mention of it, accompanied by a slight smile that Yuuri didn’t seem to be aware of, drove the reality of it home in a way the frantic mess of last night’s talks hadn’t managed.

He didn’t even know how to feel about it. In a way, it was a violation but it was _blood_. Whenever Viktor tried to imagine it, all he could see was Yuuri’s mouth on his neck and that led to visions that had nothing to do with the matter at hand.

“Viktor? I’m sorry?”

“Do you mean it?”

“No. Sorry.”

Viktor had to laugh at the pleading look Yuuri was shooting him, eyes wider than usual and lips pursed into a pout. He looked adorable and about as dangerous as a toy poodle.

“Y _uu_ ri, I can’t get mad at you when you look at me like that. Forget it. I don’t remember anyway. If you weren’t hungry, why did you say you’ve been wanting to suck my blood all this time?”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t hungry, just that I wasn’t in danger of losing control. I’m always hungry and you smell exceptionally good.”

Oh.

Was that a compliment? It was creepy but–

“I’m pretty sure I should be uncomfortable right now.”

“Are you?”

“No.”

–he found he didn’t mind.

“I’m happy to hear that, Viktor.”

“You – never mind, back to the questions. Is it harmful, what you do? Do you need to, um, hurt the person?”

For the first time since this impromptu interrogation began, Yuuri didn’t answer a question immediately. He looked away instead, not quite avoidant but rather considering, as if he were determining the best way to respond to Viktor.

He had a bad feeling about that.

“I think you’re trying to ask if the human has to die when we feed. The answer’s no, as you’ve already seen. Killing people is highly discouraged. And we don’t need to kill them to sate the thirst either. Strictly speaking, a mouthful or two is enough. We’re not built to kill.”

Well, that wasn’t so bad. The tension he hadn’t even known he’d been carrying drained away from his shoulders. That wasn’t bad at all.

He had to ask though, “Why is it discouraged? Something tells me it’s not out of moral obligation.”

“Of course not. We don’t need to kill but it’s very, uh, _satisfying_ to drink until they’re drained. But a body count attracts attention and attention risks detection. Vampires are as varied as humans, you know. There are reckless idiots among us too. So it was thought to be better if all of us limit the drainings to one or two per year – Viktor, are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look so good.”

He felt dizzy.

For a too-long instant, the pleasantly familiar visage of Yuuri may as well as have been that of a stranger.

“It’s fine, I’m fine, it’s not like your casual dismissal of cold-blooded murder is disturbing, _bozhe moi_. Wait, what are you–”

Viktor didn’t have time to think that he hadn’t been able to see Yuuri _move_ until the man was already on the couch with him, all but straddling Viktor’s lap as he held his face and soothed his sudden trembling.

Yuuri’s eyes flashed red when they met his. Viktor couldn’t look away.

“Ssh, Viktor. It’s alright. I won’t hurt you. I’ll never do anything you don’t want me to. Trust me. Relax.”

The pressure in his head was lighter than before and easily identifiable but Viktor still found himself nodding and sinking into the cushions. Yuuri kept stroking his face with the gentlest of touches and he needed no supernatural help to make Viktor like that.

“S’not fair,” he grumbled half-heartedly. “I can’t think when you do that.”

“Sorry. You seemed to be on the verge of panic and I wanted to help. Do you want to be alone for a while?”

“No.” He reached to wind his arms around Yuuri’s back, loosely gripping his shirt. “That’s worse. You make it hard to worry too much.”

When Yuuri was here like this, it was tough for Viktor to doubt him or himself. Then again, Yuuri had quite explicitly confirmed that his intentions were far from honorable though admittedly not in any way Viktor had expected. All he had to do now was decide whether or not he was comfortable living with someone who saved his life and drank his blood and then kept him around while still wanting to drink his blood.

But Yuuri had restrained himself. That counted for something, right?

“Yuuri? You really haven’t bit me after I woke up? You didn’t just do it and mess with my mind like you did to that guy?”

He hated how small his voice sounded but it was difficult to say those words out loud even without trying to seem strong on top of it. Still hovering above him, Yuuri’s face crinkled into a frown.

“I really didn’t, Viktor. I don’t know how much you’ll trust my words and I can’t deny that I have lied to you. I had to since I couldn’t let you know what I am. But now you know and I have no reason to keep lying. I can’t make you believe me though.”

Was it odd that he wanted to believe Yuuri so much?

But could he?

“You said you can’t erase my memories. But you have no trouble making me do things like now. I don’t know what to believe, Yuuri.”

Yuuri shifted as if to pull away but Viktor tightened his grip on his shirt, keeping him close, almost too close. He couldn’t bear to let him go.

“My ability to compel is less powerful than you might think,” Yuuri told him with a sigh. One of his hands had migrated into Viktor’s hair and was playing with the strands. “As we are, I can make you listen to me or stay still or calm down. It helps that you seem susceptible to my influence but these are still things you can easily spot. When I bite people, it muddles their head enough to let me erase the memory of the feeding entirely. But even if I were to bite you, your familiarity with me gives you a measure of immunity. You live here, you know me – my name, my habits, my face, my touch, all of it. It’s straight up impossible for me to pass off a feeding as a simple passionate encounter.”

Viktor silently ruminated on that for a few minutes while Yuuri continued to pet him gently. His hands were so soothing.

He didn’t want to let this go.

“Okay. Okay, I believe all that. I believe you don’t want to hurt me. I believe you hid things from me within reason. But I still need to ask. The compulsion thing you do – you won’t use it to force me into anything, right?”

Yuuri wouldn’t. Viktor was sure of that. It wasn’t like he had been lacking opportunities until now. But Viktor remembered the strange pressure in his head that didn’t suppress his will so much as bend it to its liking. He remembered being held in place by mere words and not even wanting to fight.

That kind of helplessness…

“I won’t use it on you at all,” Yuuri announced with a firmness that sent a jolt through Viktor. He gaped at Yuuri who met his gaze with steely determination.

“Really?”

“Yes. I promise. Unless you give me permission, I won’t compel you, Viktor.”

Such an offer should have been basic decency but last night had been more than enough for Viktor to comprehend that concepts like those didn’t really mean anything to Yuuri.

Yuuri was trying to compromise.

“Thank you, Yuuri.” And he was, not for the offer itself but for the clear indication that Yuuri was willing to accommodate Viktor. Now he only had to meet him halfway but before that, he had to ask, “Why though? You’re limiting yourself by doing this.”

When Yuuri pulled away this time, Viktor had to let him go. The other didn’t move far, just shifted on the couch so that he was sitting properly, turned attentively towards Viktor.

“I don’t know how to do this, Viktor, but I know I didn’t go about things the best way last night. And yet, you stayed. You’re dealing with everything so well, you’re giving me a chance and I want to be good to you too. I don’t know how any of this will turn out but I do know that I want you to _want_ to stay. Here, with me. I – I’ll try my best to make sure you will. Just myself, no extra stuff.”

 _It’s not that I’m dealing well_ , Viktor wanted to say, _It’s just that I’m desperate not to lose you._

But the words stuck in his throat, thick and syrupy, choking him.

It was true, he was desperate. But looking at Yuuri’s eyes and the way they all but blazed as he promised Viktor things he had no business promising, he realized that maybe it wasn’t just him who was desperate.

Maybe Yuuri was too.

Maybe this madness had infected them both beyond help.

There was something reassuring about that thought.

“I need some time to digest everything,” Viktor told Yuuri, reaching out to grasp his hand. “It’s been a crazy night and morning. I can tell you this though, Yuuri. I want to stay. More than anything, I want to be here with you.”

Yuuri’s hand closed around his, grip tight and grounding.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It ain’t gonna be that easy, boys.
> 
> Going into Viktor’s head for this was…fun. Like pulling teeth. So much fun. This chapter is probably as sad as this story’s going to get. If next chapter were in Viktor POV, it’d have been pretty damn angsty but it’s Yuuri POV so we get some confused floundering instead.
> 
>  _bozhe moi_ : Oh my god  
> (I don’t speak Russian and am depending on multiple internet sites instead – except Google Translate ofc)


	5. love, i’d never hurt you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri has all the empathy of a brick but a desperate call to a friend helps him sort things out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Presenting Phichit. Not in the flesh though. 
> 
> Important: There’s been a minor edit in chapter one where **a line that implied Phichit was also a vampire** has been removed. He was supposed to be one but then the narrative hit me over the head and was like “yeah, no.” He wasn't supposed to be an important character either but that has also changed.
> 
> Warnings: Referenced animal death

Personally, Yuuri thought that the talks with Viktor had gone well.

He’d only had to deal with humans discovering what he was a handful of times and not a single one of those incidents had ended prettily. The moment Viktor’s shocked eyes had met his, Yuuri had automatically imagined those same lovely blues blank with death.

Something in him had violently rebelled at the thought.

For all his bluster that night, Yuuri doubted he’d have been able to kill Viktor. He wouldn’t have let him go either. Viktor was already so firmly entrenched in his existence that the thought of losing him, be it to death or mere fear, left Yuuri with an itch under his skin that demanded things he was in no position to provide.

He wasn’t a fool. He knew what was happening, where this was leading.

Vampires and humans that got attached only ever had one of two endings.

But he didn’t need to think about that yet. Viktor wasn’t running away.

In fact, he wasn’t reacting at all like the humans before him. They’d screamed or ran or even attacked. Viktor just listened, questioned and _accepted_ , leaving Yuuri marveling at the treasure he had in his grasp.

How could he ever let him go?

Still, maybe it had been naïve of him to expect everything to return to how it used to be. Yes, Viktor’s response to Yuuri’s vampirism had been better than anything he could ever have imagined but that didn’t mean it would all be smooth sailing.

He knew this.

He just didn’t know how to fix it.

The thing was that if Yuuri was any less attuned to Viktor than the past weeks had made him, then he might have missed out entirely on there being something to fix. On the surface, their routine remained the same. Viktor slept a lot while Yuuri hid in the shadows and watched. Viktor cooked more food than was necessary and shoved the leftovers in the fridge. They read together, Yuuri often reading to Viktor. They slept in the same bed and Viktor twined himself around Yuuri.

He had almost fooled himself into thinking everything was fine.

But–

Viktor’s smiles were large and fake rather than the small, sweet things of before. Yuuri didn’t have to pretend to enjoy the food that Viktor cooked anymore. Viktor no longer slept peacefully even with Yuuri beside him. Their conversations were few and stilted unlike the easy, flowing talks they used to be.

They didn’t touch as much. Or rather, Viktor didn’t touch him at all except when he was asleep and even those hours were filled with broken whispers and shuddering exhales, drenched skin and death grips.

It was like all the progress they’d made during the early weeks of Viktor’s stay had vanished into thin air.

Yuuri missed it, missed him, and yet he couldn’t make himself reach out and pull Viktor to him like he wanted to.

Even though Viktor sometimes looked at him like he wanted it too.

It was as though neither of them knew what to do or what to say after those first few conversations that had muddled almost as many things as they clarified.  

Yuuri had tried, once, perched on the bed’s edge with Viktor stretched out beside him. He’d tried to make his tongue shape the words that skittered along the bony confines of his skull, only to find that they slipped out of reach as he strained for them, leaving him stumbling over hollow nothings.

And Viktor, beautiful and fading, had smiled at him, just as hollow and helpless.

It was almost worse that Viktor never really seemed afraid of Yuuri. Instead, he was cautious and unsure of _them_ , pained eyes always lingering on the distance between their bodies with visible longing. Yuuri knew how he felt. It may even have been easier if Viktor had been scared because then Yuuri would know what he felt, would know how to react and could perhaps figure out what to say. But all he knew now was that Viktor was as vexed as Yuuri, wanting to get closer but unsure how.

Things couldn’t return to the peaceful ignorance of before. They needed a new balance but unveiled secrets saturated the air between them, loud in the silence.

Still, Viktor stayed.

With beautiful blue eyes that grew duller by the day and smiles that became emptier the more they appeared, he stayed.

Yuuri, out of pretty words and sturdy reassurances, broke after a week and called Phichit.

“Yuuri!” Phichit chirped in greeting, obscenely happy.

“Hey.”

“This is a miracle! I wasn’t expecting you to call for another decade at least. Wait, did you run into trouble? You did, didn’t you? What is it this time, werewolves again? They do seem unusually–”

“Oh hell, stop. I’m not in any trouble. The whole point of taking a break is so I can avoid trouble. Have some faith in me.”

“Yeah, sure.” Pure skepticism saturated Phichit’s voice, comfortingly familiar. “It’s not like you ever contact me for anything less than impending disaster. _Maybe_ if you were more–”

“Okay, Phichit, listen,” Yuuri cut in before Phichit could go off on his usual spiel about Yuuri’s abysmal record at keeping up with him and his blasphemous – Phichit’s words, not his – rejection of social media. He didn’t really get it. Weren’t a call every few years and the occasional meeting enough?

“Yuuri? I’m listening?”

“Oh, yes, sorry. I have a human. No, problem! I have a problem.”

“You have a human problem?”

“Yes! I mean, no. Or…yes?”

Well, this was already off to a good start. He was very glad that he’d chosen voice call over video chat. The last thing he needed now was to let Phichit see him and read him like a book.

Phichit was uncharacteristically silent for a moment before he said in a voice that booked no argument, “Skype me, Katsuki.”

“No, wait–”

The dial tone mocked him.

Never mind then.

Sighing, he gave in and opened Skype, one of the few apps on his phone.

Phichit answered the call too fast for him to not have been waiting for it. Yuuri knew that it was part concern and part curiosity. He wasn’t really looking forward to the upcoming interrogation but he’d called Phichit because he was sure to be of help.

Well, it was also because Phichit and Minako were his only options and the latter was best left alone these days.

Phichit looked the same as always though his hair was shorter than the last time Yuuri had seen him. His shit-eating grin hadn’t changed one bit.

“Spill, Yuuri. Let me hear about this human of yours.”

Yuuri very calmly reminded himself that he had asked for this.

“Well, see, do you follow figure skating?”

He couldn’t even enjoy the comical confusion on Phichit’s face because he was too busy trying to arrange the words in his head into some semblance of coherency. He really should have thought this out before calling the guy.

“Not really? I know what it is but that’s it. Why, did you develop a sudden interest in human sports?”

“Ah, no. I’m working part-time at an ice rink now. It’s temporary though.”

Yuuri promptly launched into a rushed explanation of how he came to take the job from Yuuko and Phichit, who knew he was stalling but also knew Yuuri well enough to understand when to let him take his time, allowed him ramble on about things that had absolutely no bearing on his real reason for this call.

“Are you there right now?” Phichit asked once Yuuri stuttered to a stop, gesturing vaguely at the screen. Yuuri shot a glance at the white expanse of the rink at his back. Working hours were over but Yuuri was still here. It wasn’t like he could call Phichit to talk about Viktor with the human in question by his side.

“Yeah.”

“It looks pretty.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you ready to talk about why you really called now?”

“…Yeah.”

Phichit waited, silent and undemanding.

“I’m living with a human,” Yuuri finally said. The words felt laughably inadequate. “He’s a figure skater. A famous one too. And he, um, knows. About me and what I am.”

Phichit’s response was instantaneous and predictable.

“Are you feeding on him? I mean, I’m not judging, whatever floats your boat. Just – it’s not really your style. Besides, you know it won’t–”

Yuuri shook his head, cutting him off before he could finish.

“No, he’s not my – not my _pet_. We just live together. Until last week, he thought I was human. He walked in on me feeding on another guy and I didn’t want to kill him so I told him the truth. He took it well. Very well, shockingly well.”

He laughed, seized by that flash of incredulity that still appeared when he thought about all the ways that evening could have gone wrong but hadn’t. Viktor was still there.

Phichit frowned at him.

“There’s more to this than what you’re telling me. If this were just about the human knowing what you are, you wouldn’t have called me. I know better than anyone how capable you are of cleaning up your own messes. So come on, start from the beginning.” A smile replaced the frown, mischievous and ever so slightly unsettling. “I’m curious about what made our renowned lone wolf – or bat, whatever – shack up with a human.”

“We’re not–”

Yuuri pressed his lips together, took a fortifying deep breath, and allowed the words to spill out of him.

It was awkward and messy and for all that he tried to keep it as brief as possible, he found himself adding more details than planned, often retracing his words and stopping at random points to wax poetic over Viktor, all to Phichit’s obvious delight. He left out the part about Viktor’s suicide attempt, painting it as an accident instead. He didn’t feel comfortable sharing that.

By the time Yuuri was finished relaying the last three weeks’ happenings, Phichit’s eyes were as wide as saucers and he had a hand covering his gaping mouth.

“Well, well, well, look at you growing up and finding a mate.”

There was a five second pause before Yuuri screeched.

“ _He’s not my mate_.”

The look Phichit leveled at him made his indignation shrivel up and die an ignoble death.

“He’s not,” Yuuri said anyway, petulant. He also tried very, very hard not to examine the rather insistent new feelings that welled in him at the thought of having Viktor as his undead life’s eternal partner.

“Not yet,” Phichit corrected. “And he won’t be unless you get your shit together and talk to him. Honestly, Yuuri, only you would charm a human so thoroughly that he’s willing to ignore that you’re a bloodsucking creature of the non-sunny hours and _then_ fail to communicate with him.”

Yuuri huffed and valiantly fought off the urge to pout.

“It’s not like I’ve done this before. What am I supposed to do anyway?”

“Come on, man, I’m no marriage counselor but even I can see that the problem here is that you don’t know the guy. And he doesn’t know you. But the two of you are trying to build a relationship anyway and it’s failing epically because neither of you know what you’re dealing with.”

Yuuri couldn’t help the way he bristled. His fangs lengthened a bit, digging into his bottom lip.

“I do know Viktor. He’s sweet, funny, clingy and–”

– _tastes like ambrosia and looks beautiful in my clothes._

Phichit did not need to know that.

“I’m sure he’s all that,” came the response, droll and unimpressed. “Now tell me something that’s not superficial as hell. Why did he leave his home and his career to hole up in a no-name town in Japan? What on earth convinced him to fall into the arms of a man he barely knew and then stay with that man when he turned out to be an honest-to-god vampire? I know you don’t really get how non-vampiric minds work, Yuuri, but even you have to see that your Viktor isn’t acting on any kind of logic. And you said you didn’t compel him to stay so he must be doing it of his own free will. People don’t put their fates in the hands of dangerous strangers without a healthy dose of desperation. Jeez, Yuuri.”

Yuuri had no words to refute any of that, not when he knew that Phichit was right. He and Viktor had both mentioned more than once that they weren’t acting rationally but Yuuri had never thought to question why Viktor was that way. It had simply been enough that he was.

“It’s not just him, Yuuri,” Phichit continued, gentler now. “You’re not usually like this either. You let this guy _live_ with you. He found out what you are because you got careless. Hell, you never get careless, least of all when it comes to food. And starving yourself until you absolutely need to feed because you don’t want to be away from your human? I still have trouble believing that. Abstinence isn’t in your nature. If anything, you’re gluttonous. I know you like to eat every couple of days whenever you can get away with it. It sure says something that you’re willing to hold back so much for this guy. Do you get what I’m saying, Yuuri?”

Yuuri stood frozen, chewing hard on his lips, free hand curled into a fist that made bones creak.

“You’ve got it bad, buddy,” Phichit continued, answering his own question. “And I say good for you but I also know you. You treat intimacy like it’s the midday sun. It’s a miracle that you let Viktor in at all but I can see you’re well on your way to sabotaging yourself.”

“But I’m not…” Yuuri trailed off weakly, the protest dying on his tongue. He wanted to say that he was doing everything he could to nurture his connection with Viktor, that he would do anything to not lose the man before he even had him and yet–

He knew it wasn’t wholly true.

Nothing Phichit just said was _wrong_. And Yuuri hadn’t even realized it until it was spelled out for him.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Yuuri breathed out miserably, slumping against the barrier.

“No one does,” Phichit said sagely, smirking when Yuuri scowled at him. “Just get your head out of your ass, bat boy, and talk to your pretty human. Get to know him. Let him know you. Or, failing that, dig into a vein and make the best of him while you can.”

Yuuri’s answering glare slid off Phichit. He was sure he was more intimidating when not on a screen thousands of miles away.

“I am not killing Viktor.”

“Yeah, I figured.” There was an exasperated edge to Phichit’s smile, one that Yuuri knew from experience was directed not at him but at his kind as a whole. “Vampires are so weird about their mates.”

“Phichit, Minako and I are literally the only vampires you know.”

“And both of you prove my point. Careful with this Viktor or you might end up like Minako and her wife.”

He was mostly sure Phichit was only joking but the centuries-old fiasco that was Minako’s relationship with her other half was a grim enough reminder to make Yuuri instantly resolve to do better with Viktor.

He didn’t even bother denying that the man was his mate. It wasn’t like he hated the idea. Quite the opposite really.

Viktor couldn’t know though. Not yet.

“Yuuri, I’m still here,” Phichit drawled, pulling him out of his meandering thoughts. He wanted to be back home already, back with Viktor.

“Thank you, Phichit.” Yuuri smiled at his friend, small but genuine. “I can always count on you.”

“Of course you can. I’m the best friend you’ll ever have. Now, you can repay the favor by keeping me updated with how things are going with your guy. I just looked him up by the way. _Hot damn_.”

Yuuri tried very hard not to growl at his phone. Judging from Phichit’s sudden fit of giggles, he’d failed.

“That’s cute, Yuuri. But really, I mean it, keep me updated.”

“Uh, sure, of course,” Yuuri lied, fooling no one.

“Don’t _Uh, sure_ me, Katsuki. I know where you live. I picked out the house. Don’t think I won’t show up there to see things for myself. That is unless you keep me informed like the good friend I know you’re occasionally capable of being.”

Yuuri knew Phichit would exactly as he said.

He scowled, reluctant to give in but also impatient to leave.

Phichit just smiled, perfectly angelic.

“I should have made Celestino leave you in that barn,” Yuuri groused, a familiar lament.

“You’re right,” Phichit replied without missing a beat. “ _You_ should have turned me instead. Just think, Yuuri, I could have called you Daddy!”

“Goodbye, Phichit.”

“Don’t forget to–”

Yuuri pocketed his phone and turned around to look at the rink. The ice glittered in the indoor lights, cold and lovely, much like Viktor had looked dancing on it.

Viktor had once conquered the ice.

Why had he stopped? Why had Yuuri never asked?

How many times had he marveled over the difference between Yuuko’s idol Viktor Nikiforov and Yuuri’s human Viktor without ever thinking to simply ask the man in question?

He had to wonder though – would Viktor have answered?

Maybe, maybe not. Maybe he wouldn’t have then but he would now.

Phichit wasn’t wrong. Yuuri couldn’t left the cake and eat it too.

With one last glance at the ice, he left to lock up the rink.

It was time to go home.

 

* * *

 

Viktor was fast asleep on the couch with a book in his lap and drool at the corner of his mouth. It didn’t seem all that comfortable but Yuuri still felt reluctant to wake him. He wasn’t sure if that was because Viktor seemed to be sleeping peacefully for a change or due to his own trepidation at the conversation they had to have.

Still, he gently shook his shoulder, smiling as softly as he could when Viktor’s eyes blinked open.

“Yuuri…you’re back.”

“Yes. Sorry I’m late.”

Viktor just kept looking at him, the last vestiges of sleep fleeing from his heavy-lidded gaze. There was a peculiar intensity to his expression.

“I was waiting for you,” Viktor told him quietly. “When you were late, I thought – I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

He was quite curious to know what Viktor had thought but the sudden tension in his body said that an answer wouldn’t be forthcoming. A couple of weeks ago, Yuuri wouldn’t have been able to tell that but he wouldn’t have cared to ask either.

He really had been a fool.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, glancing at his watch. It was almost ten, over an hour past the time he’d usually get here. “I should have warned you I’d be late. Did you eat?”

Viktor mutely shook his head.

“Come on then. I’ll join you.”

He pulled back, the hand that had been on Viktor’s shoulder held out invitingly. His human took it cautiously but made no move to get up.

“I’m not really hungry.”

He’d said that same thing last night and many other times prior to that. Viktor seemed to function on some arbitrary schedule that changed every day and his food intake suffered for it. Yuuri had never pushed or prodded, content to let Viktor decide what he wanted to do and when. After all, it wasn’t any of his business.

Now, he looked over Viktor critically. He was clad in one of Yuuri’s oversized T-shirts again, the extra fabric swathing his body and hiding it from view. But Yuuri knew he’d felt bones poking into his skin when Viktor been draped over him last night. His face didn’t fare much better, pale and gaunt with a limp mop of silver crowning it. And while Viktor had always been fair, his skin was nearly translucent now. Plus no matter how prominent his cheekbones were, Yuuri was sure they hadn’t always looked like they would pop out of his skin any moment.

Healthy humans shouldn’t look like his.

Viktor wasn’t well, was he?

It didn’t feel like a great revelation because Yuuri, for all that he was out of touch with humanity, had seen enough television and read enough books to decently discriminate between normal and unusual behavior. Viktor had always neatly fit into the latter but Yuuri hadn’t cared to pry because it had only mattered to him whether Viktor stayed and everything else was for the human to sort out.

But if that were true, then the pasty thinness and wan smiles of the man in front of him shouldn’t bother him at all.

They did.

“Yuuri?” Viktor murmured, his small, uncertain voice cutting through Yuuri’s thoughts. Sometime during his contemplation, he had cupped Viktor’s face with his spare hand. It was oddly relieving to see Viktor tilt his head into the touch in spite of everything.

“You should eat anyway,” Yuuri said, tugging Viktor up. He came easily, eyes growing wide. “I’ll heat up some soup for you. That’d be fine, yes?”

Viktor nodded, staring stunned at Yuuri.

Dinner was a mostly silent affair. Viktor drank the soup in slow sips, shooting fervent glances at Yuuri in between swallows. Yuuri watched him in return, sporadically slipping to his own head to review what he wanted to say. The right words would show themselves one moment, only to fade away when Yuuri tried to reach for them again.

To be fair, he’d never been an eloquent speaker. It was unlikely that he’d become one now that he needed it the most.

He took the bowl from Viktor once he finished, sending him off with a promise to soon join him that seemed to startle him even more.

Viktor wasn’t in the living room when Yuuri finished fussing over the minimal mess in the kitchen and went to find him. He was in the bedroom, sitting on the side of the bed with his head turned towards the door. Their eyes met the moment Yuuri stepped inside. Neither of them looked away.

“We should talk,” Yuuri blurted suddenly, voice too high and loud. He cringed.

It would be nice if he could regain the perfect mixture of calm nonchalance and careful interest he’d sported during his initial conversations with Viktor. But he hadn’t been so emotionally invested back then.

Then again, Viktor might as well see what he was really dealing with.

“I know things haven’t been so good lately,” he said, more or less evenly. “I know you’re not doing too well and that I haven’t been any help. Can we try and…fix it?”

“I don’t – I – yes?” Viktor sputtered, looking about as off-balance as Yuuri felt. He climbed on the bed, sitting facing Viktor with his legs tucked under him.

The silence stretched on.

Viktor was starting to fidget and Yuuri had stopped breathing.

“I’m around four hundred years old,” he managed to gasp, sucking in a generous gulp of air immediately after. Great start, Katsuki. “I like the color blue best and red always makes me hungry. Um, I was born in Japan but this is my first time visiting in over a century. My best friend is a werewolf and everyone thinks that’s weird. I…”

He ran out of random facts and forced himself to stop, partly because Viktor looked too confused to be really processing anything Yuuri was saying.

“Yuuri, why are you telling me all this? Not that I don’t want to know but it seems so sudden.”

“I realized–” More like he had it hammered into his head but Viktor didn’t need to know that. “–that I’ve been keeping myself at a distance from you. I never even noticed, really, I always do it. There was this woman once who – ah, no, that’s not important. Thing is, I’m used to closing myself off. I hate it when people can see my weaknesses. It feels like an intrusion. And I’ve been doing it with you too. But you’re different from anyone I’ve ever known. I told you I wanted you to want to stay, that I’ll try my best for it but…I haven’t been. I haven’t done anything at all except stand and wait and avoid you when it got too much. I’m sorry for that. I want to try to be better. For you. So.”

He ended his clumsy spiel with a shrug and a smile that sat nervously on his lips. Viktor’s mouth was parted, his eyes wide and hands clenched, as he looked at Yuuri. Something about that expression was reassuring.

Slowly, a smile upturned the corners of his human’s mouth, blooming soon into an exquisite heart-shaped grin.

Despite his sickliness, Viktor looked radiant.

“Oh, Yuuri,” was all he said before he tackled Yuuri with a hug that sent them both toppling to the mattress.

“Thank you,” Viktor whispered into his ear. Yuuri held him tight.

“I haven’t earned that yet, Viktor.”

In retrospect, maybe reciting disjointed information about himself wasn’t the best way to go about deepening their bond. Bite him, he was desperate.

“You’re trying, that’s enough. Always so good to me, Yuuri.”

He stroked Viktor’s hair, seized with a tenderness that filled the space between his ribs with a strange, sweet pressure.

“Not as good as I want to be. Not as good as you deserve.”

Viktor stilled so suddenly that Yuuri had to try and push him back to look at his face. But Viktor clung to him stubbornly, hiding in Yuuri’s neck.

“How would you know?” he mumbled, the words muffled but still discernible. “That I’m worth the effort?”

Now _that_ Yuuri could answer easily.

“You’re you. Of course it’s worth it. Do you think I’d bend myself backwards for just anyone, Viktor?”

He was pretty sure he could feel Viktor’s mouth curve into a smile against his skin. Then Viktor pulled away, detaching from Yuuri and sitting up properly. His eyes were suspiciously shiny but also more alive than they had been in days.

“I don’t really understand that,” Viktor admitted with a faint laugh that tumbled out awkwardly. “What do you want me to be to you, Yuuri? Your friend? Your lover?” He paused, licking his lips, eyes intent on Yuuri. “Your prey?”

In Yuuri’s defense, hearing Viktor say those words was enough to short-circuit his brain for the time he should have used to form a response.

Viktor smiled, a little too wide, a little too false.

“Okay. I can do–”

“No! I don’t want you to be anything but who you are. I want Viktor, just Viktor.”

And _oh_ , he could get used to this, the way this man looked at Yuuri like he held the universe in his palms.

“Okay,” Viktor said again, painfully soft. “Even if – even if I’m kind of a mess?”

Yuuri chuckled fondly. “You’ve been a mess since you came here. I never minded. It’s not like I’m any better. Although, if you’ll let me, I’d like to look after you.”

“Haven’t you done enough of that already?”

“Not enough and not properly. I can see now that your health is failing. Is it some disease? Are you sick?”

Viktor’s burst of laughter bounded off the walls, sharp like broken glass.

“Sick, huh? You could say that.”

Yuuri frowned, Viktor’s words rousing a memory of similar ones.

“You’ve said something like that before. Back when you were out of it. I didn’t think much of it then.”

“Wow, will there ever be an end to the list of incriminating things I said when I was blacked out from sea water and cold medicine?”

Viktor said it lightly enough but Yuuri remained silent, a little shocked that Viktor actually referenced his brush with death of his own volition. He didn’t allow Yuuri to dwell on it though.

“I’m physically fine. There are aches of course. Over two decades of figure skating can do that to a guy. Otherwise, I’m fine. The problem–” Viktor reached up to tap his head, smirking mockingly. “–is here.”

Yuuri…didn’t really get it.

A mental ailment was the obvious conclusion but his knowledge of human mind and body were both equally lacking, save for what he needed to feed and keep hidden. Besides, Viktor didn’t seem ‘physically fine’ to him either.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Viktor actually considered the question for a while, one finger absently tapping his mouth as he bowed his face in thought. In the end though, he shook his head with a rueful smile.

“Rain check? I might want to later. Not now. Meanwhile, you could tell me about the woman you mentioned! Who was she, a past lover?”

It actually took Yuuri a while to remember what Viktor was talking about and when he did, he was torn between amusement and exasperation that Viktor had caught that particular detail amidst his torrent of words.

“Yeah, kind of. Lover is too grand a term though. We had sex a couple of times but that was it. On my part at least. She’s a vampire like me and we’re both in the same line of work. Once on a joint...endeavor, this guy we were working with got badly injured. I was already in a frenzy and him bleeding all over the place made it worse. She tried to calm me down by hugging me and I nearly ripped her arm off getting away. I didn’t like it that she presumed she could help me like that. We weren’t…intimate. I didn’t want to let anyone in like that.”

Yuuri shifted his gaze from his own nails and very deliberately looked Viktor in the eyes.

“You’re different. It just took me a while to figure out what that meant.”

“Oh,” Viktor said faintly. He had that reverent look in his eyes again, the one that made Yuuri’s hands twitch with the need to reach out and take hold of him. “I’m really happy to know that, Yuuri. I feel the same way, you know. Maybe we could share each other’s secrets one day.”

“I’d like that.”

This time, he did reach out to Viktor, taking his hands in his and grinning when the grip was eagerly returned.

For several precious moments, they just sat like that, holding hands and smiling like fools.

Then Viktor asked, “Not that I’m complaining but what brought this on so suddenly?”

If Yuuri could have, he’d have blushed but the fresh flush of Daiki’s blood was long gone.

“I, uh, called a friend for advice. The werewolf I mentioned? His name’s Phichit. He said some really smart things, like how we weren’t really communicating as well as we should if we want to – um. Anyway, he said I wasn’t letting it happen and he’s not wrong.”

“I’m to blame too, I’m sure,” Viktor conceded, speaking again before Yuuri could deny it. “I’m jealous though. I don’t have anyone to give me relationship advice.”

Yuuri was momentarily distracted by the word relationship and all that it implied. He had no words for how happy he was that Viktor said it first.

“Why not?” he asked once he calmed himself. “What about all the humans you know? Family, friends, companions?”

Viktor shrugged and looked away.

“No family. Few friends. I barely even contact the people I left behind in Russia. I just send messages every few days to let them know I’m still alive. They know I’m in Japan but that’s it.”

There was no bitterness in Viktor’s voice, no resignation; it was a blasé recital of facts.

Everything in Yuuri roared triumphantly at the knowledge that no one in the world had Viktor the way he did.

“Dangerous, Viktor, leaving yourself at my mercy like that.”

Viktor’s laughed, clearly surprised but hardly put off.

“Ah, but I trust you desperately, Yuuri.”

“Foolish.”

“Maybe.”

They grinned at each other.

“You should call me Vitya. Viktor sounds so formal to me.”

“Vitya,” Yuuri tried, the word rolling off his tongue. He wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with the concept of Russian diminutives. “Vitya. Okay. I like it, it’s cute.”

Viktor’s ears turned pink.

“I’ll keep calling you Yuuri, if that’s okay? I love your name.”

“Of course, Vitya.”

It was an absolute treat to see Viktor flush with obvious pleasure.

He owed Phichit so much.

For some time, they just sat there like that, quietly enjoying the newly cleared air between them. A mild smile played on Viktor’s lips, completing the expression of tired contentment on his face. Yuuri was aware that his own reflected something similar. It felt so surreal sometimes, the way Viktor drew out _so much_ out of him.

But it was real. He could have this.

“Vitya,” he murmured softly, just to hear himself say it. Viktor looked up anyway, again as delighted to hear the name as Yuuri was to say it.

“I like it when you call me that,” he told Yuuri, enviously open with his affection.

“I like saying it,” Yuuri replied, glancing down for a moment. It was ridiculous. He’d said much more sappily sentimental things to this man before.

“I want to show you something,” Viktor confided, voice low and grave all of a sudden. Nervous determination dominated his face. “You just told me so much about you,” he continued, not quite looking Yuuri in the eyes. “I want to return the favor.”

“You don’t have to,” Yuuri said, ruthlessly squashing the cavernous curiosity that rose in him at the thought of knowing more about this human of his. But no. Tonight was about Viktor. Yuuri could be selfish later.

But Viktor had other plans.

“I want to,” he insisted and freed a hand to reach over to the bedside table for his phone. His fingers worked intently over the glowing screen, frown on his brows and teeth on his lips, until he finally handed the device over to Yuuri. There was a second of hesitance before he let go of it.

Yuuri kept his eyes on Viktor, resisting the urge to glance down.

“Vik-Vitya?”

“It’s easier to show than tell,” Viktor explained without clarifying anything. Yuuri gave in and looked at the screen.

It was a picture of Viktor with his dog, Makkachin. They were on what seemed to be a bed, the poodle draped across Viktor’s lap and fast asleep. Its master seemed on the verge of sleep too, eyes drooping and smile tired, but there was genuine joy in his expression.

Viktor reached over and swiped at the screen. Before Yuuri could protest, the next image filled his view, this time of the dog alone. Makkachin was looking at the screen from where it was lying on a dog bed, one eye open and gazing at the camera. Another swipe, another picture; Makkachin alone again in a ridiculous purple outfit, pink tongue lolling out in what could only be a canine grin.

Yuuri had to smile.

“That’s Makkachin. Makka.” Viktor’s voice was thick with concealed grief. “She was my best and longest friend.”

Yuuri lingered for a moment on the picture before returning his gaze to Viktor who was staring back with naked pain in his eyes.

“She’s gone, isn’t she?” Yuuri whispered, knowing it already but giving no indication of it. Even if he hadn’t looked her up on the internet that day, Viktor’s tone would have clued him in on the truth.

“I miss her so much, Yuuri. I try not to think about her and my – well, you helped, distracting me but this last week, everything’s been – anyway, I wanted to show you. The most important thing about my life before I came here.”

Somehow, it didn’t surprise Yuuri that his dog was more important to Viktor than his figure skating accolades.

“Thank you for showing me,” he told Viktor, meaning every word. “She’s beautiful.”

“She was the best dog,” Viktor said seriously before sniffling.

Yuuri wordlessly pulled him into his arms, the two of them collapsing sideways, phone forgotten. Viktor clutched at him tightly. He was trembling but Yuuri could feel no tears wetting his shirt and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

He ran his hands along Viktor’s back, soothing him as best as he could while wishing he could do more.

From the bed, a long dead dog’s soulful eyes bored into him from across a screen.

 

* * *

 

The improvement afterward was so drastic that Yuuri regretted not calling Phichit a little earlier or better yet, having the emotional capacity to figure his shit out himself.

If he thought about it too much, the way he was so willing to do things he’d never imagined doing for Viktor’s sake would unnerve him. But then he tried to imagine never meeting Viktor, never living with him, never trying to fix things between them, and _that_ was far more terrifying than his own alien feelings could ever hope to be.

Phichit had been right. Yuuri had it bad.

He didn’t really mind, not when Viktor uninhibited was a gift better than anything Yuuri had dreamed of. His fumbling attempt at bonding had seemed to effectively erase any reservations the man might have had about the whole vampire issue. He even asked questions, drilling Yuuri endlessly almost every day without fail.

 _So, werewolves?_ he’d asked once, prompting and prodding until Yuuri’s wealth of shifter-related knowledge was exhausted and a few of his more savory personal encounters with them had been recounted. He’d also been extremely fixated on Phichit but some of his mania had died down after a very surprised Yuuri assured him that no, Phichit had never been his lover and was in fact happily mated.

Then there were the more typical questions about Yuuri’s own nature. Did sunlight hurt him ( _yes_ ), would it kill him ( _no_ ), did he turn into a bat ( _of course not_ ), how about fog ( _convenient but no_ ), did he sparkle (fuck _no_ ), was garlic a problem ( _no but the smell is a bit too much_ ), how about crosses and holy water ( _Vitya, I’m not even religious_ ), would stakes kill him ( _those could kill anyone_ ), did he ever dig his way out of a grave ( _I think you’ve watched too many movies_ ) and so on, some of them far more ridiculous than the rest, each one a joy to answer when Viktor listened so intently as if he could never even conceive taking his attention away from Yuuri.

It was doubly amusing that Viktor was basing these questions on all the books and movies he’d taken to devouring, most of them read or watched while Yuuri was right beside him.

But even amidst the avalanche of questions, it was easy to see where Viktor’s real interests lay.

Feeding.

Those questions were a little harder, not because Yuuri attached any particular significance to the activity but because discussing it with Viktor inevitably reminded him of the taste and feel of Viktor’s blood in his mouth while drawing Yuuri’s eyes to the perpetually exposed column of Viktor’s neck.

He could understand the fascination, especially when Viktor confessed to his recurring but vague dreams that evoked sensations of when Yuuri had fed on him. He didn’t seem angry about it though. If anything, his interest grew and grew no matter how Yuuri tried to word his answers in ways that would discourage him.

Even saying that the process was intensely sexual for humans had only forced a nice, red blush out of him while doing nothing to stifle his interest in the matter.

On the bright side, this newfound openness evidently helped Viktor become more comfortable around Yuuri and let them work out a mutually pleasing arrangement.

He had spent a whole night scouring the internet while Viktor slumbered beside him, his sleep mostly tranquil once again, and managed to tentatively infer that Viktor had some kind of depression. His few attempts to broach the topic had been met with polite deflection though and well, Yuuri could take a hint. He didn’t know how to _be_ concerned either; the feeling slipped and slithered out of his grasp, intense one moment and gone the next.

So he did what he could, ensuring that Viktor ate proper meals thrice a day and got some exercise by dragging him out for a run on the beach at unholy hours of the morning. He was resistant at times and enthusiastic at others but mostly allowed Yuuri to manhandle him out of bed and to wherever he wanted. His sleep cycle was still all over the place but at least his new obsession with vampire media gave his mind more occupation.

And it showed in the new flush on his skin and the bound in his steps. Viktor didn’t become magically healed but no longer did he resemble a starved ghoul.

Things weren’t the same as before but the best parts were similar and everything else was _better_.

Yuuri could stay like this forever, in this sleepy town with his soft human.

Best of all, Viktor said he felt the same.

Yuuri had asked, trepidation weighing him down until it was wiped away by Viktor’s cheerful _Why would I ever leave you, Yuuri?_

And when he’d persisted with barely hidden relief, Viktor had said he’d left Russia to take an indefinite break from figure skating. Yuuri had been able to tell that wasn’t the whole truth but he took pleasure in how Viktor hadn’t tried to give him a fake smile as distraction.

They were making progress and there was no rush.

All they had was time.

 

* * *

 

Eleven days, seventeen hours and a handful of minutes after the first burst of Daiki’s blood on his tongue, Yuuri reached his limit.

He hadn’t taken as much as he’d wanted to from the human before Viktor interrupted them and while he had anything but regrets about the ultimate results of that disruption, he couldn’t deny that the hunger writhing in his veins made him wish he’d managed to down a few more mouthfuls.

It was even worse than last time, as if Viktor’s complete acceptance of his nature obliterated any and all restraint Yuuri had left.

Or he could be just gluttonous like Phichit said.                                            

Either way, the one thing he knew for sure was that he couldn’t put it off any longer.

“Vitya, I need to tell you something.”

Viktor perked up and put away his laptop, giving Yuuri his undivided attention.

“Tonight, after work, I’m going to Fukuoka.”

Viktor tilted his head like an inquisitive puppy and Yuuri inanely wondered if he’d picked up that habit from his actual puppy.

It made his neck look so–

No, no, no.

Focus.

“I need to feed.”

There was utter stillness, no word, no breath, for several long seconds before Viktor’s expression darkened.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This doesn’t count as a cliffhanger, right? This chapter and I were locked in an epic war. I lost. 
> 
> Also, I've got news – I’ve outlined the whole story in detail and well, we’re looking at almost 20 chapters and 150k words. I…don’t know how this happened. Oops?


	6. break my skin and drain me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri can be oblivious but Viktor has his ways to get what he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unconventional relationship upgrades! Also, there’s a little extra something in the end notes.

“I need to feed.”

Viktor’s first thought was a resounding _No!_

It echoed in an endless loop within the confines of his skull even as he managed to get his suddenly heavy tongue to shape a coherent question.

“What are you talking about?”

He regretted it immediately; not only was it stupid since he knew what Yuuri meant and Yuuri knew he knew but also because he hadn’t managed to hide the vehement upheaval inside of him nearly as well as he’d have liked. He had been trying so hard not to hide from Yuuri that he had forgotten how to do it at a time when it mattered.

And yet, as he watched Yuuri’s face scrunch up in clear confusion, a part of Viktor rejoiced in the fact that Yuuri knew of his disapproval.

“It’s been two weeks since I ate,” Yuuri explained, softly and carefully, eyeing Viktor with newfound caution. “I’m hungry.”

Viktor wasn’t surprised. He remembered everything Yuuri had told him about his nature with surprising clarity. But he hadn’t expected this conversation to go quite like this.

“It almost sounds like you’re trying to get me to lend a vein, Yuuri,” Viktor mused lightly, taking care to keep the words absolutely neutral.

It worked a little too well.

Yuuri started, blinking twice in shock, before he frantically waved his hands in front of him with an urgency that might have been amusing in another situation.

“No, no, not at all. I didn’t mean it that way.” Yuuri smiled in what was probably intended as reassurance only to have the effect ruined by the way his fangs slipped out. Viktor stared at them, not quite used to the sight and utterly fascinated. They vanished all too soon but when Viktor looked back at Yuuri’s face, he found his eyes trained on his neck.

Well, that was reassuring.

“What did you mean then?” he asked, angling his head inquisitively, the movement accentuating the taut curve of his throat. Yuuri swallowed.

“I, uh–” It was quite flattering to see Yuuri visibly struggle to reassemble the threads of his thoughts while trying not to stare at Viktor’s pulse. “Fukuoka! That’s where I go. To feed. Usually.”

All the times he’d drilled Yuuri on his food habits, he’d neglected to ask where he hunted. He’d just assumed that it would be similar to the incident that had exposed him to Viktor in the first place. He didn’t like to think of that night but if leaving Hasetsu was the norm for Yuuri then Viktor’s willful ignorance may have cost him important information.

He scooted a little closer to Yuuri on the bed.

“Why go there? What’s wrong with Hasetsu?”

He was close enough to feel the eerie chill that emanated from Yuuri’s body, something that had only started happening a couple of days ago. Viktor couldn’t believe he’d missed this the first time. He had to once again push down the powerful urge to strip out of his clothes and press his own warm body to Yuuri’s much cooler skin. It _was_ getting hot here.

“I don’t like to feed so close to home,” Yuuri told him after a too-long pause. “It feels unsafe.”

“How so?” Viktor was genuinely curious, ulterior motives aside.

Yuuri shrugged and made as if to lean away from Viktor only to do the exact opposite in the end.

“I’ve had a few bad experiences back in the days when people were more open to the supernatural. Being chased by people who want to torch you isn’t much fun. Even less so when they think you’re a demon and try to exorcise you. Add skirmishes with other things that hate my kind into the mix and you’ve got a perfect cocktail for chaos. Guess I grew paranoid.  So I try to be careful even when I know it’s unlikely that anyone would find out what I am.”

“But the boy that day was from Hasetsu.”

“I was desperate. And–” Yuuri’s voice lowered and he mumbled something that Viktor couldn’t hear despite their closeness.

“Come again?”

Yuuri’s forceful sigh was actually a little funny. For a guy who technically didn’t need to breathe, he sure was expressive with his air.

“I said I didn’t want to leave you then. I tend to spend the night there and I didn’t want you to be alone here.”

Viktor smiled, touched at Yuuri’s consideration. However, the pleasure was marred by the thought of him spending the night with another.

“You sleep with all your victims?”

“Huh?” Yuuri, bless him, looked adorably confused for a second before he chuckled, shaking his head. “Ah, no, not at all. I prefer not to have sex with humans. Staying overnight is just convenient. And I don’t have…company when I do. It’s just that I take the last train to Fukuoka and it’s a bother to run all the way back here so I wait till morning. ”

Having already questioned Yuuri on his physical prowess and being duly impressed by his inhuman – literally – stamina, Viktor had no trouble believing that Yuuri could indeed run back to Hasetsu if he wanted.

But the other thing he said was far less plausible.

“You know, Yuuri, you don’t look at me like someone who’s not interested in having sex with humans.”

It was his first time making an overt statement about the tension that unobtrusively simmered between them but Viktor couldn’t not say it when Yuuri’s claim made something cold and hard tear into his chest.

But Yuuri didn’t deny it, only looked at Viktor with a slightly helpless smile.

“You should know by now that you’re very special to me, Vitya.”

And damn if that didn’t give him actual butterflies.

Now was not the time to think about sex with Yuuri though. As appealing as the idea was at times, Viktor wasn’t ready for that, not when he was only recently starting to feel sexual arousal as he’d used to in the good old days. It had been just his hand and some toys for years. Viktor was half-afraid he’d forgotten how to touch another in desire.

But until a month ago, he’d been just as estranged from any touch that wasn’t painfully superficial and look at him now, unable to keep his hands off Yuuri and gleefully basking in the way that attention was eagerly returned.

“So you don’t mix food with sex,” Viktor affirmed, bringing his mind back to the present. Yuuri nodded and Viktor crept even closer to him so that their legs touched.

“That seems so _hard_ , Yuuri. You told me feeding was inherently sexual for the ones you bite.”

Up close, Viktor could see more red than usual in Yuuri’s eyes, impossible to miss amidst the soothing brown of his irises. As he watched, a thin circle of bright crimson appeared around Yuuri’s pupil, messily bleeding into the brown before disappearing altogether. It must be hard for him to have Viktor – warm, human and delicious – this close to him.

He didn’t move away though.

“I seduce them,” Yuuri replied and Viktor was sure he wasn’t imagining the hoarseness of his voice. “Touch them, kiss them, mark them. They don’t try to run even when I drink from them.”

He could picture it so clearly; a person writhing in Yuuri’s arms, held captive by his hands and teeth. He had seen it himself after all.

Viktor gritted his teeth at the memory.

H couldn’t have stopped himself from reaching out to slot his hand over Yuuri’s even if he’d wanted to. Yuuri exhaled sharply at the touch.

“Sounds like a good time,” Viktor purred, delicately trailing his fingers up Yuuri’s arm. “I might be jealous.”

He made it as far as Yuuri’s elbow before both of his hands were seized in a crushing grip and he was pulled forward so that he collapsed against Yuuri, torso to torso. Yuuri let him go as if burned but Viktor didn’t waste a moment wrapping his arms around the other.

Even through two layers of clothes, Yuuri was cold. He must be so hungry.

“Viktor, what are you doing?”

He pouted at the use of his proper name but didn’t detach himself from Yuuri. Nor did he answer the question.

“Do you go to them?” he asked instead, breathing the words into Yuuri’s ear. “Or do they come to you? I can imagine both, you know. The playboy and the tempter. Either would suit you.”

Yuuri was as stiff as a board in his hold but his arms came up to clutch at Viktor’s back, twisting in the fabric and pulling it tight. Viktor shivered.

He remembered the final short program of his career, a whimsical story brimming with a passion he’d desperately wanted to feel, and for once, the memory of his past didn’t bring a bitter sting with it.

“Eros,” he whispered, lips brushing the shell of Yuuri’s ear. “I’d love to see your eros, Yuuri. But not with other people. I hate even the thought of it.”

Viktor divulged the words like a confession, gripping Yuuri tighter with a possessiveness he wasn’t ashamed to feel.

Surely, his vampire needed no more hints?

As always, Yuuri didn’t disappoint. Before Viktor could even register the movement, he found himself on his back with Yuuri looming over him, fangs on full display. His eyes gleamed red, beautiful and ethereal.

Viktor wound his arms around his neck.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Yuuri growled, sending chills down Viktor’s spine. There was nothing human about that sound.

“No,” he admitted. “But I know what I want. I’ve been trying to tell you all week, Yuuri.”

From the way Yuuri’s mouth dropped open in surprise, Viktor deduced that he really hadn’t had any idea. What, did he think Viktor was interested in vampire feeding habits for _science_?

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Yuuri murmured disbelievingly, “You can’t mean that.”

Viktor wanted to scoff. Really, this man, acting like his fangs weren’t aching to sink into Viktor, like his bloody gaze wasn’t devouring Viktor’s throat, like his hands didn’t spasm with need where they pinned Viktor by the shoulders, like he didn’t want this even more desperately than Viktor did.

Yuuri was fooling no one. But if it was a push he needed, then Viktor was all too happy to provide.

“I dream of it all the time, Yuuri. It’s so frustrating when all I have are wisps of sensation. I want to know how it feels to have your teeth in my neck. I want to see you flushed with my blood. _I want it, Yuuri_.”

The animal noise that escaped Yuuri was so visceral as to have Viktor gasping for words.

“Please, Yuuri, you don’t have to go anywhere. I’m right here, aren’t I? Come–”

“Tell me.”

“What?”

“Tell me what you want.”

“I just did.”

“Then tell me again,” Yuuri forced through gritted teeth, shaking with the effort of holding back, and _oh_ , Viktor wanted to see the remnants of his control shatter.

“Yuuri,” he rasped, arching his neck temptingly and looking up through his lashes. “Bite me. I want it. I know you want it too.”

Yuuri struck.

There was pain, sharp and momentary, before it was washed away in pleasure so intense that it scrubbed all thought from Viktor’s mind, left him limp and panting under Yuuri. His blood burned, red-hot need thrumming through his veins, pooling in his gut, his groin, making him want to arch into the body above him but kept immobile by Yuuri’s mouth on his neck.

He wanted to squirm and scream and beg for more; more of Yuuri’s mouth, his hands, his touch, anything to soothe the unnatural ecstasy that tore through his body and left him _wanting_.

Yuuri’s lips left his neck after an electrifying eternity, flipping some invisible switch as they went, and Viktor was left reeling from the sudden absence of that impossible feeling. At some point, he’d closed his eyes and he opened them now, staring dazedly at the ceiling as he tried to remember the name for its color.

His neck ached.

Beside him, Yuuri made a sound that could be best described as a purr and lapped at the hurt, little kitten licks that drove the remaining breath out of Viktor’s lungs while taking the pain with it.

Distantly, he realized he was trembling.

Yuuri made little shushing noises, nuzzling into Viktor’s neck and running his hands over his chest and stomach. Viktor wanted to lean into the touch or to turn and tuck himself against the safe comfort of Yuuri’s body but he was paralyzed, shuddering from little aftershocks that punched soft gasps out of his mouth.

Yuuri held him through it.

It was several long minutes later that Viktor managed to find his tongue. He had to struggle to get it to form words that were actual English and not a hotchpotch of slurred Russian.

“Yuuri,” he managed in the end, giving up on language. He just needed Yuuri. “ _Yuuri_.”

“Ssh, I’m here,” came the reply, followed by a nose brushing against his cheek.

Viktor turned his head and found Yuuri so close, blurred and the best sight ever.

“Yuuri.”

“Vitya. It’s alright.”

“Did I taste good, Yuuri?”

That was important to know.

Yuuri huffed out something between a laugh and a moan.

“You were perfect. Delectable. I’ve never had anyone like you, Vitya.”

“Never will either.”

“No, never.”

He pushed his face into Yuuri’s neck and grinned lazily. Gentle hands combed through his hair and slid down his back, grounding him.

“I can’t believe I slept through that. Thrice!” Viktor exclaimed once he finally felt like he wasn’t half floating in some other plane of existence. He could feel Yuuri vibrate with laughter and reluctantly pulled away enough to properly see his face.

Yuuri was looking at him with naked adoration. His eyes were as red as his mouth.

“It’s different when you’re conscious,” said Yuuri, one hand sliding down to cup the place where his teeth had bit deep. He didn’t seem to be doing it on purpose but it still made Viktor tingle pleasantly.

“How so?”

“More…intense? At least that’s what I’ve been told. Unconscious or deeply asleep people I’ve fed on barely reacted except to squirm a bit. But those who are awake and aware, they – well – they react like you just did. The fugue state afterwards makes people very susceptible to compulsion.”

“I think that must be what being high is like,” Viktor told him, completely serious.

Yuuri just smiled.

“Vampire bite can be addictive.”

It could have been a warning. Viktor was in no state to care.

He made the mistake of trying to remember how it had felt. The details were fading already, leaving him only with a hazy and intense feeling, but he shuddered all the same, automatically pressing closer to Yuuri.

Oh, he was hard.

When did that happen?

“Sorry,” he bit out, focusing on not grinding into Yuuri. That would be crossing so many lines and they only had a few to begin with.

“It’s natural,” Yuuri assured him. “Do you want to…”

“No!” he replied a little too loudly and followed it up with a sheepish smile. Maybe he could embarrass himself enough for his erection to die.

Yuuri just calmly stared at him but Viktor could see uncertainty lurking in the faint furrow of his brow. Both of his hands kept idly tracing patterns on Viktor and honestly, it wasn’t helping but he’d rather swallow his own tongue than make him stop.

“I don’t want our first time to be one of empty necessity,” Viktor murmured, only to freeze up when Yuuri’s eyes blew wide.

He’d just assumed, hadn’t he, that they would have a first time.

“I didn’t mean–”

“You did,” Yuuri interrupted but he sounded anything but upset. There was a huskiness to his voice that _did things_ to Viktor. “Nothing with you will ever be empty, my Vitya, but I understand. We have time.”

It never failed to warm him from somewhere deep inside whenever Yuuri said that.

“Kiss me, Yuuri.”

He hadn’t meant to say that, not at all, but they were out and he meant every syllable and this time, Yuuri didn’t ask if he was sure, just pulled Viktor close and sealed his lips over his.

It was soft and almost innocuous except for how it sent Viktor’s heart thundering his chest, the faint heat of Yuuri’s mouth shooting fissures of giggly delight along his entire being. He smiled, so happy he could burst, and parted his mouth to flick his tongue at the seam of Yuuri’s lips. It tasted metallic, Viktor’s own blood tangy and sharp in Yuuri’s mouth, but he didn’t pull away from the first, questioning touch of Yuuri’s tongue to his. They kissed sweet and light, lips and tongues shyly tasting. Viktor felt hot all over, filled to the brim with adoration and arousal both, and the mild, contented noises Yuuri made against his mouth gave him hope that the sentiment was mutual.

Viktor was the one to break the kiss, mourning it immensely but also hyperaware of the insistent pressure between his legs.

Yuuri glanced down as well, smiling far too widely at the prominent tenting in Viktor’s pants.

“Your fault,” Viktor mumbled, pouting and one hundred percent sure that his face was flaming. Between the bite and the kiss, he was sure he could be excused.

“I’d happily take responsibility,” Yuuri said with laughter in his eyes. He looked divine. “But I imagine you’d rather take care of this on your own.”

Then he was sliding out of the bed, slipping away from Viktor who reached for him without even thinking about it. Yuuri pressed a quick kiss to the back of his hand, eyes on Viktor’s, and drew away, swiftly making for the door. He stopped short of it and looked over his shoulder with an impish grin.

“Thank you for the meal. I hope you’ll think of me, Vitya.”

He was gone before Viktor could do more than gape. His incoherent sputtering was answered with ringing laughter that already sounded so far away.

Viktor slumped back on the bed, glaring down at his crotch.

He could ignore it and it’d go away and he could join Yuuri and find out what he tasted like without his mouth drenched in Viktor’s blood.

Or he could get off and give some much-deserved relief to the sensuous pressure that had been born the moment Yuuri’s fangs touched his neck while Yuuri, with his preternatural hearing, lurked somewhere in the house and listened.

Put that way, the choice was obvious.

Viktor tugged down his pants and briefs just enough to free his cock. It was already a little wet at the tip. This wouldn’t take long.

He dragged his T-shirt – one of Yuuri’s, recently appropriated – up by the neckline and buried his face in the fabric, breathing deep for the last vestiges of Yuuri’s scent as he reached down to wrap his free hand around his cock, shuddering violently at the pleasure that zinged through him.

Yeah, this wouldn’t take long at all.

His neck burned, phantom ache and real longing both, and he could still taste Yuuri on his lips, smell him in his clothes, feel him on his skin.

Viktor touched himself and thought only of Yuuri.

 

* * *

 

“How long have you wanted this?” Yuuri asked, the words distorted by the sliver of Viktor’s flesh trapped between his teeth. Between that and the sparks shimmering down his spine, it took Viktor a while to grasp the question.

The answer was easy though.

“Approximately one hour after I saw you.”

Yuuri stopped nibbling on Viktor’s neck, ignoring his plaintive whine at the loss, and made a vaguely questioning noise that Viktor was immensely proud of recognizing.

“But you didn’t know I was a vampire then?”

“Oh, is that what you were asking? I thought it was about, well, this.”

Viktor made a sweeping motion at the two of them sprawled on the couch, Viktor between Yuuri’s legs and leaning back against his chest. They’d had started out watching cat videos – he’d always preferred dogs and so did Yuuri apparently but it was too soon and it was only recently that he even found the strength to start going through Makka’s pictures – but for the past two days, anything and everything they did together eventually escalated into sloppy make out sessions that inevitably ended when one or both of them got too turned on to keep going, and today had been no different.

He felt soft lips touch the nape of his neck and jolted, laughing breathlessly as he settled back down against Yuuri.

He loved this.

“I’m not sure,” he answered, shifting around so he could see Yuuri’s face. He always liked to see Yuuri’s face. “I was pretty confused about the whole thing in the beginning and later, I was…scared.”

Not of Yuuri, not really, because he’d recognized even then that had Yuuri wanted him dead or hurt, he’d had a plethora of opportunities that Viktor would have had no way of avoiding.

His fears had been far more specific. It hadn’t been Yuuri being a vampire that terrified him but the sudden destabilization of everything they’d built between them. The thought that they really didn’t know each other despite those dreamlike weeks, the very real possibility that he could just be convenient _food_ to Yuuri–

Those days had been hell.

But Viktor had stayed, unsure what to do and aware he couldn’t leave knowing what he did.

And then Yuuri had talked to him, said he wanted neither blood nor sex, just _Viktor_.

It was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard and Viktor had never been more glad that he stayed.

Hands ran down his arms, gently pulling Viktor out of his thoughts. Yuuri remained silent but there was a slight frown on his face.

“I’m fine,” Viktor assured him, a little amused but mostly overwhelmingly moved at how much this man who wasn’t even human tried to care for him. “Good thoughts.”

Yuuri smiled and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips that left Viktor beaming and blushing at the devastating sweetness of it.

“After we had that talk and started sorting out things, most of my worries about your nature disappared,” Viktor continued, snuggling against Yuuri’s arm and the couch to get comfortable. “I was curious of course but really, the thing I couldn’t stop thinking about was the sight I saw that night. You and that boy.”

“He was hardly a boy.”

Viktor slapped a hand against Yuuri’s mouth, frowning to show how superbly unimpressed he was by the interruption.

Yuuri mumbled something against his skin.

“What?”

“Were you jealous?” Yuuri repeated, mouth peeking out from between Viktor’s fingers.

“Absolutely not,” he lied, fooling literally no one. “Now, as I was saying, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I knew you’d have to do it again though and one day, I had this thought – _Yuuri could drink my blood, can’t he?_ And trust me, I tried to dismiss it at first–” He had, for all of five minutes. “–but it was no use. I kept having those dreams and I wondered how something that felt so good when I was that out of it would feel when I’m awake. I liked the idea too much. Not nearly as much as I love it now though.”

The exaggerated wink-smirk combination at the end seemed a better alternative than the sudden flash of worry that Yuuri would be angry – ridiculous, he’d clearly shown Viktor how much he appreciated the impromptu blood donation – but Yuuri just bent his head and giggled, the sight deadly in ways that were far from unpleasant.

Viktor would happily die by this man.

It was the softness in Yuuri’s eyes as he looked at Viktor and the possessive stroke of his hands along his skin that gave Viktor the courage to voice what he desperately wanted to say.

“I wish you’d only drink from me.”

Yuuri’s fingers dug into his arms with shocking strength for the fraction of a second before his startlement showed itself in a more conventional form; wide eyes and an open mouth.

“Viktor.” There was a tightness to his voice that made Viktor fear that he’d gone too far. Then Yuuri slid a hand to the back of his neck and gripped him hard as if he planned to never let go and something in Viktor relaxed instinctually. “Vitya, do you want that? Do you mean that?”

He nodded, pulse hammering.

“Yes, Yuuri, yes.”

Viktor didn’t know how fast it happened but in the blink of an eye, he was on his back with Yuuri straddling him, heart in throat and all breath lost. He was kissed before he could get his bearings, Yuuri’s tongue sliding into his mouth for a too-brief moment before his mouth pulled away. Viktor tried to chase him, only to find himself held down by strong hands on his shoulders.

“In all my centuries of existence, nothing has tempted me more than you,” Yuuri whispered, voice low with a kind of breathless awe that made Viktor feel as if he was the most powerful creature in the universe; he must be, to make this beautiful, wonderful man sound like that.

“Good,” he choked out, rough and hoarse as if he’d been screaming for hours or had a cock rammed down his throat.

…probably not the wisest things to consider while he had Yuuri’s ass inches away from his crotch.

Focus, Nikiforov.

“Yuuri?” he asked, quiet and pleading. “Would you give me that?”

Yuuri made a sound like he was dying.

He was silent for a while, eyes boring into Viktor with an intensity that had been unnerving in the beginning but now had been accepted as part and parcel of Katsuki Yuuri.

When he spoke again, there was a silky quality to his voice that made Viktor’s gut tighten.

“We have a name for humans who willingly become a vampire’s food source. Do you want to know what it is, Vitya?”

“I – yes.”

There was a hint of fang in Yuuri’s wild-edged smile.

“We call them pets.” A thumb traced the outline of Viktor’s mouth before sliding down his neck to rest on his pulse. “Well, that’s the English word anyway. It’s far more polite than some of the others.”

Viktor barely heard him, too preoccupied with the sudden burn on his face, and down the rest of his body, as the word _pet_ registered.

“You make it sound like I’d belong to you.”

God, was that even his voice?

“It does, doesn’t it?” Yuuri rasped, sounding as bad as Viktor. He didn’t deny the claim, just waited with an expectant expression. Viktor almost wished he didn’t know what Yuuri wanted.

He licked his lips and didn’t miss the way Yuuri’s eyes tracked the motion.

“I – I’d love to be your pet, Yuuri.”

And that – that sounded wrong, not _wrong_ wrong, but being Yuuri’s pet evoked images of wearing kitty ears and tail plugs more than baring his neck for the sweet sting of hungry fangs.

But Yuuri just smiled, deliciously dark, and his hand splayed around Viktor’s neck like a collar.

It made regret impossible.

“My pet, hm? Didn’t we already agree that you’d be just Viktor?”

At this point, Viktor was quite sure that Yuuri just wanted to hear him say this out loud. He complied all the same, too far gone to play games.

“And Just Viktor wants to be yours.”

“Are you sure? I’m quite possessive. I don’t like to let go of things that are mine.”

“Yuuuuuri,” Viktor whined, lightly shoving at Yuuri who didn’t even budge. “Don’t mess with me. You were never going to let go of me in the first place.”

Yuuri actually looked surprised.

“I don’t mind,” Viktor told him, voicing thoughts he’d mulled over quite a few times already. “I’ve never had anyone to belong to before. I think I like it.”

That it was again, that look of wonder that made Viktor’s heart emulate a particularly flighty rabbit.

“I can’t believe you’re real.”

“I could say the same about you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri just shook his head and promptly returned to staring at Viktor as if trying to memorize his face. As pleased as he was by the attention, he really wanted an answer.

“It’s only going to be me, right, Yuuri?” Viktor asked softly, curling one hand over the one Yuuri had on his neck.

“Of course, Vitya. Anything you want.” And then fainter, “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Viktor grinned, giddy, and tilted his face for a kiss.

Yuuri indulged him instantly, both of his hands coming up to cup Viktor’s face as their mouths moved together with lazy heat. He’d never get tired of kissing Yuuri, could spend forever just like this, with their lips pressed together, exchanging kisses sweet and filthy and everything in between.

Yuuri released Viktor with a playful tug on his lower lip but didn’t pull away, instead mouthing his way along Viktor’s jaw and down his neck, leaving behind a trail of blazing sensation. Something sharp brushed his skin, a barely noticeable sting that nonetheless drove the breath out of his lungs and made him tilt his neck, breathless and wanting and lost in the muddled memory of the way it had felt to have Yuuri feeding on him.

Yuuri growled, the sound vibrating against Viktor’s throat, and dug his teeth in harder, not enough to break the skin but so, so close that Viktor could do little but claw at Yuuri’s clothed back and whine out a plea that was more breath than word.

There was an instant that stretched out into infinity when Viktor could feel the stunning fragility of his own skin as it threatened to give way under the razor-sharp points of Yuuri’s fangs and he _wanted_ it, wholly and desperately, wanted to writhe against Yuuri as he ignited a fire and a storm both inside Viktor–

And the next second, he was alone on the couch and Yuuri was sprawled on the floor, head in hands as he shuddered once, twice, and stopped, freezing unnaturally.

“Yu­­–”

Yuuri’s head snapped up, red-eyed and fang-mouthed, and his name died on Viktor’s tongue.

He was so terribly beautiful, like a nightmare masquerading as a daydream.

“Sorry,” Yuuri gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. When he opened them again, they were his usual lovely brown. “That was dangerous. Your body hasn’t recovered from last time.”

Viktor blinked, confused, and pushed himself into a sitting position. His breaths were coming fast and his heartbeat was too loud.

He considered Yuuri and the torn expression on his face as he tried not to stare at Viktor’s neck. It was good to know he wasn’t the only one suffering from the sudden distance.

“Dangerous,” Viktor repeated flatly, reaching up to touch the place where Yuuri’s mouth had been. It was already starting to swell.

“I took a lot last time. You only have so much blood in your body, Vitya.”

Yuuri tentatively placed a hand on Viktor’s knee and he automatically covered it with his own. There was still some lingering warmth to Yuuri’s skin, not enough that it felt anything but cool to Viktor but discernible all the same from the icy chill of three days prior. It was clear that Yuuri didn’t need to feed yet. What almost happened just now hadn’t been about food.

Oddly enough, that made him happy.

“I would have let you drink,” Viktor declared, neither shame nor guilt tainting the words. Yuuri gave him a look that scorched him down to his bones in the best of ways.

“I know.” Yuuri bowed his head to rest his forehead on their joined hands.

“I trust you not to hurt me.”

The sound Yuuri made wasn’t quite a laugh.

“Most would call you a fool for that. _I_ would.”

And Viktor did laugh, bending so he could rest his head atop Yuuri’s.

“So be it.”

 

* * *

 

Yuuri was gone and Viktor missed him terribly.

Granted, he’d been gone for less than an hour and would only remain gone for a few in total but Viktor had long since given up on any kind of reasonable logic when it came to Yuuri.

Viktor missed him whenever he was more than one room away. It was fact.

It was just that it was so good to just _be_ with Yuuri. That had been true from his first week here and hadn’t changed except in those days when Viktor was in turmoil over certain unforeseen revelations. Maybe it said something about him that the sole person he was comfortable around nowadays was a centuries-old vampire who loved to snack on him.

It didn’t bother Viktor. In many ways, Yuuri’s nature was a comfort to him. Because Yuuri, with his delightful contradictions, so clearly lived by his own rules without a care for normalcy and expectations. It wasn’t even evident if there was anyone around to shove those expectations at him except Viktor who was perfectly content to observe Yuuri as he was stripped of the last pretensions of humanity. He made Viktor feel as if he could do the same. In fact, he already was. There was no _Viktor Nikiforov_ to be found in Yuuri’s Viktor who lounged around in mismatched clothes and had to be pulled out of bed for morning runs and longed to lend a vein to his vampire…boyfriend? Lover?

They had to talk about that.

Obviously, they were no longer just housemates who platonically cuddled a lot. Viktor had a latticework of bruises on his neck to show for it, evidence of Yuuri’s increasing inability to hide his fixation on Viktor’s neck.

Viktor pressed a finger into the latest mark, hissing quietly at the dull throb of pain that was accompanied by a fizzle of heat down below. He didn’t follow up on it, not quite in the mood to get off. Besides, if he jerked off each time he was turned on by thoughts of Yuuri, his dick would be missing a layer of skin by this point.

He couldn’t stop touching his neck though. His fingers kept wandering on their own accord, tapping and rubbing the teeth prints and suck marks that Yuuri branded onto the willing canvas of Viktor’s skin.

He put away his phone, its screen dark from long minutes of inactivity, and left the bed, making his way to the bathroom.

He stopped in front of the mirror and examined his neck, sheer joy, sweet and bubbly, spreading through him as he stared at the marks along his throat and clavicle. Some were already fading, their yellow tint only barely visible against the paleness of his skin. There were others, bigger and angrier in shades of red and purple, a vivid painting that abruptly cut off above his pectorals. His torso was distressingly bare and a part of Viktor yearned to see what it would feel like, _look_ like, to have Yuuri’s teeth mark their way down the rest of him but–

Not yet.

He had time.

Viktor loosely wrapped his hand around his neck, remembering Yuuri doing the same. His own touch didn’t feel as nice but the bruises on his neck were an adequate substitute. They hurt and felt so good and were tangible proof that he was here.

He was Yuuri’s and Yuuri was his.

They could work out the details as they went.

His eyes caught his own gaze in the mirror, blue on blue. It had been a while since he’d made a point of looking at himself too closely. There had been no need when he knew what he’d find and how much he’d hate it.

Now, though–

There was a spark in his eyes; a vibrancy that he thought had died half a decade ago.

He left the room smiling.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **So, I wrote a thing for this fic.** After the last chapter, Ao3 user [tease](http://archiveofourown.org/users/tease/pseuds/tease) speculated in their comment that Viktor would either offer himself as food or chaperone Yuuri’s hunts. As you can see, the former was my original idea as well but Viktor going with Yuuri to Fukuoka and vetoing all his food choices was too hilarious an image to pass up.
> 
> [ Click here if you want to see an AU](http://voxofthevoid.tumblr.com/post/165149040111/judge-and-jury) of how this story could have gone if Viktor hadn’t decided to go all out to get Yuuri to bite him. You get Yuuri POV as bonus.
> 
> Next chapter, we finally go outside Yuuri’s house.


	7. carnivorous and lusting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri has secrets that he's wary to share but Viktor keeps surprising him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear this is the fluffiest piece of fluff I have ever written which would be odd even if this weren’t a vaguely creepy vampire fic. It’s earned a Domestic Fluff tag for gods’ sake. I don’t understand my mind.
> 
> And yeah, this chapter got…kinda ridiculously long? 10k+ monsters might be the norm from this point, with the exception of chapter nine.
> 
> Warnings: Really questionable decisions from both parties, sexual content at the end. Note the new tags.

Viktor was going to kill him.

Granted, Yuuri was fairly sure it was impossible for a vampire to die of heart attacks or immense arousal but at the rate his limited supply of blood was rushing south on a near-hourly basis, he worried that he’d end up making history in the most ridiculous way.

It was all Viktor’s fault. How dare he lounge around wearing nothing but a pair of shorts that might as well be underwear and the marks Yuuri left on his skin. There was no excuse. It wasn’t even that hot inside.

On the bed, Viktor shifted, sleepily nestling into Yuuri’s side and throwing a long, lovely leg over his calves.

Yuuri almost bit through his lip.

There had been other lovers in Yuuri’s life. He was not unaware of how consuming physical pleasure could be. But none of them had driven him out of his mind with little more than a glance or a touch, none of them had plunged him deep into a desire that grew more ravenous the more he restrained it, none of them had made him willingly break his own rules and succumb to another without reservations.

None of them had been Viktor.

It couldn’t be that Viktor was his first human lover. That was too simplistic. Besides, Yuuri knew with unsettling certainty that Viktor could have been anything from a leprechaun to a skinwalker and Yuuri would still be enamored of him.

His desire for Viktor had been a perpetual presence ever since the beginning but it had been so easy then to keep the sexual aspect of it in check and focus on the touch of his skin and the scent of his blood. And then Viktor had bared his throat for Yuuri, sly and willing, and they’d kissed and…not stopped kissing.

Yuuri liked the kissing. He loved the kissing. He had no issue keeping it to just kissing. If anything, his biggest complaint was that their erections often stopped them from kissing.

All the same, the heat of Viktor’s mouth made him ache in ways he never knew he could feel and the delicate skin of his neck tempted Yuuri each time his lips or teeth brushed against it. It would be only too easy to have a little taste especially when Viktor seemed as eager for it as Yuuri, always pushing into the accidental press of fangs with sounds that made Yuuri’s borrowed blood rise to his skin.

And then there was Viktor’s newfound tendency of eschewing clothes altogether to strut around half-naked and glorious, a vision that made Yuuri understand uncomfortably well why a thousand ships were launched over one woman in that old epic. If Viktor was attractive in Yuuri’s ill-fitting clothes, he was an incubus given flesh in nothing but his own skin and numerous love bites.

Yuuri was _suffering_.

He wondered if Viktor even noticed.

Beside him, Viktor moved again, mumbling something incomprehensible into Yuuri’s shirt as he wiggled his leg, bringing it dangerously close to Yuuri’s groin and his not-quite-soft cock.

It would probably be best if he left and had a nice time with his hand in the shower but then he wouldn’t be able to watch Viktor sleep and that wouldn’t do. Viktor was beautiful when he slept; snores and drool and all.

What he needed was a distraction, something to dissuade him from the line of thought that leaned precariously towards leaning down and–

Right on cue, his phone vibrated and Yuuri seized it with uncharacteristic haste.

It was Phichit again, the message nothing but a single emoji with a raised eyebrow. No context needed. Yuuri knew what he wanted.

Yuuri’s first message to Phichit had been the result of giddy excitement at having sorted things out with Viktor and his friend’s helpful role in it. The following ones were prompted by Phichit’s shameless pestering. Yuuri answered maybe one out of every ten texts he was sent but that was par for the course with them. Phichit, for all that he pushed and pleaded, wouldn’t actually show up in Hasetsu like he’d threatened too. He had more sense than to force a confrontation like that and he also knew to give Yuuri space.

But despite the discomfort Yuuri felt at sharing his personal affairs with another, there was also something relieving about shooting a text to a guy half a world away when he was so wound up over Viktor that it felt like his mind and body would both combust.

Like now.

When yet another glance at Viktor’s sleeping face – so serene he could pass for an angel – made something inside Yuuri clench painfully, he gave up and tapped out a quick message.

 

_help_

_he’s too beautiful_

The response came distressingly fast.

 

_wow you’re hopeless_

_minako would be rolling in her coffin_

_you know she got rid of that thing ages ago_

_and she doesn’t know about Viktor_

_i don’t know if i should tell her yet_

_no don’t_

_ciao ciao talked to her the other day_

_let’s just say it’s not wise to mention mates to her any time soon_

_great_

_how’s celestino?_

_fine_

_very damn fine_

_i see you’ve stopped denying viktor’s your mate_

_well_

_he’s mine_

_he said so_

 

That particular memory had still not lost even an ounce of its luster. Viktor, spread out under him, all flushed skin and bright eyes as offered himself to Yuuri, wholly and guilelessly. It brought a smile to his lips even now, tinged with the same strange blend of soft adoration and desperate need that reared up within him whenever he thought too hard about what this man meant to him. Caught up as he was in those feelings, he didn’t remember that he had not mentioned anything about that incident to Phichit until his phone practically vibrated out of his hands.

Yuuri stared at the long line of exclamation marks and more emojis than he’d ever know how to name and gulped.

How was he going to get out of this one?

 

_YUURI_

_what’s that supposed to mean_

_are you ignoring me_

_yuuuuuurrrriiiiiiiiii_

_it’s nothing you need to know, phichit_

_i beg to differ_

_at least tell me if you’re fucking yet_

_we aren’t_

_ihear a BUT in there_

_you hear nothing_

_this is texting_

_there is no tone_

_i can hear your tones in your texts_

_we have a bond, yuuri_

_don’t deny me_

Yuuri could stop this conversation here, firmly enough that Phichit would back off until he conveniently forgot about the rebuff and started needling Yuuri again. _Or_ he could give into the inevitable and give Phichit enough information to run off and share with Celestino so that both of them could stop lamenting over Yuuri’s sad, lonely life like he knew they did.

 

_i bit him_

_he let me_

_we kissed_

_that’s it, now shoo_

Naturally, Phichit didn’t _shoo_.

 

_ooooh_

_get him, batboy_

_wait does that mean he’ll let you feed from him again?_

 

Yuuri knew this conversation was heading into dangerous territory. Phichit had a knack for sniffing things out and Yuuri wasn’t good at lying to people who knew him well. He didn’t respond but the silence didn’t save him this time.

 

_yuuri_

_is he_

_your pet????_

_he’s my lover_

_the two aren’t mutually exclusive and you know it_

_oh look he’s awake_

_got to go bye_

He locked the screen and threw it to the foot of the bed where it continued to shudder with messages that would remain unread for a long time. On the bright side, talking with Phichit had taken his mind off his earlier problem, if only for a little while.

Yuuri slid down so he was lying down properly and drew Viktor into his arms, intent on snuggling with him until he woke.

 

* * *

 

“What exactly is vampire law enforcement, Yuuri?”

Yuuri nearly dropped the plate he was drying but caught it before it hit the ground. Beside him, Viktor was washing the plates with more concentration that was warranted, studiously avoiding looking at Yuuri. He did that only when either of them ventured, accidentally or otherwise, into complicated topics.

“That’s random,” Yuuri deflected with no subtlety whatsoever. “And specific.”

Viktor shrugged and handed him another plate. Doing dishes regularly was still novel to Yuuri but doing it alongside Viktor was surprisingly nice. It was like they were a bona fide couple.

“I forgot about the whole thing until recently. Then the other day, I recalled you saying you worked in something like law enforcement. I thought you were a secret agent, remember?”

Yuuri chuckled and bumped his hip against Viktor’s, glad for the way it made him smile.

“Of course. You have quite the imagination.”

“It’s been helpful in the past. Really though, I kept thinking it was something like that even after you denied it. But that was when I thought you were a mere mortal like the rest of us. Now, I’m left wondering what passes as law enforcement for vampires.”

Yuuri hummed as he put away the last of the plates. His mind sorted through possible answers only to return to the truth because this was Viktor asking.

“Still an odd topic for breakfast conversation,” he finally said, turning around to lean against the kitchen counter. Viktor was meticulously drying his hands, hating to leave them wet. Afterwards, he took off his apron and folded it, leaving him in a pair of his own sweatpants and Yuuri’s tank top.

Yuuri could think of so many things to do that were far better than having this talk. And really, he was good at not having conversations he didn’t want to, as Phichit had found out just a couple of hours ago.

Viktor was different though and when he asked Yuuri things, it made him _want_ to answer.

“Technically, it’s after breakfast,” Viktor told him after an extended silence. His eyes were on Yuuri, wide and intent. “And you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

He knew that. After all, it would be hypocritical of Viktor to demand answers from Yuuri when most of his own past remained a great mystery. But in this case, it was less that Yuuri didn’t want to talk and more that the topic at hand was somewhat…unpleasant.

“I don’t really mind, Vitya. It’s just that, well…”

Yuuri didn’t really have the words to describe what he did in a way that wouldn’t be alarming. Viktor waited patiently, even coming closer so he could press himself to Yuuri’s side. It was grounding to have him so near, reminding Yuuri that this was the same man who’d stayed with him even after finding him with his fangs buried in another human.

Viktor wouldn’t be scared off so easily.

Right?

“I don’t want to scare you,” Yuuri admitted in the end, looking down at his feet. It was easier to be honest with Viktor than with anyone else because his sweetly given trust had to be honored. That didn’t change how a part of Yuuri lived in fear of exposing him to more than he could handle. “Scare you away. From me.”

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to have Viktor respond by throwing himself at Yuuri in an enthusiastic embrace because the two of them had been steadily cultivating a direct relation between physicality and reassurance but it still startled him badly to suddenly have an armful of grinning Russian. Before Yuuri could do more than clutch Viktor back and blink, there was a mouth on his, a soft and fleeting pressure.

“Nothing can drive me away from you,” Viktor declared with unshakeable conviction, blue eyes bright as they bore into Yuuri and willed him to believe the words.

There was just no way Yuuri could reject that.

“Alright, Vitya.”

Viktor nodded firmly and stepped back, the distance between them regrettable but also more conductive for a conversation. Yuuri briefly considered suggesting they move out of the kitchen but he didn’t want Viktor to think he was stalling again.

“Is it really that bad?” Viktor asked when Yuuri remained silent for long minutes.

“Kind of. The way we do things isn’t really like you humans. It might seem strange to you.”

“Yuuri, you drink blood. You’ve drunk _my_ blood. You also have no real comprehension of morality and I’m fairly sure that the way you treat me is a Viktor thing rather than a Yuuri thing. So don’t tell me your people are strange. Just because I don’t always care doesn’t mean I’m not aware.”

Well, that – that was actually an excellent point.

Viktor was right. Yuuri should give him more credit.

He wasn’t going to run from this. Yuuri wouldn’t let him.

“They call us Enforcers,” he said before grimacing at the complete non sequitur. As always, he was useless at explaining things. “Ah, I mean…I’ll start at the beginning?”

Viktor just continued to wait, expectant but patient.

“There aren’t many of us when compared to humans and we’re scattered all over the globe. It’s not exactly easy to keep such a group in line especially since most of us don’t appreciate being controlled. So we had free reign and the only real rule our makers passed on was that we should never risk exposure to humanity. As you can imagine, that didn’t really work out. All those vampire myths, accuracy aside, had to come from somewhere, you know?”

He shifted his gaze from the floor to Viktor who was almost back in Yuuri’s space with the way he was leaning forward, eyes alight with interest. It made him smile even as he considered how to explain the rest of it as innocuously as possible.

“And after a while, when the more sensible vampires got tired of cleaning up the rest’s messes, a council of sorts was formed with a handful of members that changed every half-century or so; an impartial party to oversee us and make sure we maintained secrecy. They formed a network of vampires to help enforce that rule. So…Enforcers.”

“Wow!” Viktor exclaimed though Yuuri wasn’t sure if anything he said warranted that reaction. “But Yuuri, you still haven’t told me what part you play in all this. These Enforcers, what do they do?”

Ah, here came the tricky bit.

“We go around. Country to country. Or continent to continent. Lurk in the shadows or something. And if a vampire does something to jeopardize our existence, like go around killing every human they feed on, we take action. Imeanwekillthem.” Viktor frowned a little, trying to decipher that but Yuuri pushed on, hoping to draw Viktor’s attention to more fun tidbits. “It’s easier and harder these days. On one hand, communication between us is far easier with internet and cell phones but technology also makes detection an even bigger risk. I swear there are cameras everywhere these days and faking records is so much harder but money helps–”

“Yuuri.”

“–most of the old ones are filthy rich for some reason but immortality in general is helpful when it comes to that–”

“Yuuri…”

“–not that we’re actually immortal. We don’t die but we can be ki–”

“ _Yuuri!_ ”

“Yes, Vitya. Sorry.”

Yuuri stood there, feeling like a chastised child even though he had no memories of being an actual chastised child.                                                                                                                                                                                   

He tentatively raised his eyes to look at Viktor.

He had backed up a step and was looking at Yuuri with an expression that could be the halfway point between laughter and outrage. It twisted the handsome lines of his face in odd ways.

“You…kill them.”

It wasn’t a question but Yuuri nodded anyway. There was nervous energy slithering under his skin, born of that frantic need for this to be fine – for Viktor to be fine with everything.

He’d never had to care so much before about what another thought about him. To be precise, Yuuri had never cared enough about another for their opinion to matter.

There was Minako and Phichit but Minako had been the one to make him join the Enforcers and Phichit had never judged him for anything.

They stood there in heavy silence as Viktor chewed on his lips and rocked back and forth on his feet. Yuuri was rooted on spot, the edge of the counter digging into his back.

“Why?” Viktor eventually asked. Yuuri was somewhat relieved to hear curiosity and confusion rather than accusation in his voice.

“Because it’s the best way,” he answered and proceeded to clarify when Viktor started to frown again. “It’s a last resort. I’m sorry, I know I didn’t explain that too clearly. Just – we don’t go around killing every vampire who slips up. We’d be extinct then. Sometimes, they’re honest mistakes and a few deaths per year are excused. Complicated cases are taken to the council. But deliberate, careless murders are another matter entirely. I get why they do it, it feels good, but it endangers us all and if one can’t understand that, then–”

He shrugged, making a vague gesture in lieu of assaulting Viktor with the gory details.

Viktor only looked thoughtful.

“It feels good.”

The statement was so bizarre that it took Yuuri a moment to figure out that Viktor was only parroting his own words.

“Ah–”

Viktor, who’d been staring fixedly at some invisible spot over Yuuri’s shoulder, suddenly snapped his attention back to him, eyes narrowing.

“Why does it feel good, Yuuri?”

He wasn’t getting out of this one, was he? He felt distinctly cornered in spite of the fact that it was just Viktor and Yuuri could snap him like a twig.

But that was also the issue. It was Viktor, no _just_ about it.

“It simply does.” Apparently his brain to mouth filter died a tragic death when Viktor hit him with the full, hypnotic force of his regard because the next words he blurted out had no business being spoken aloud ever. “It’s satisfying to feel a human’s heartbeat die in our mouths.”

Viktor’s eyes were wide now; wide and very, very blue.

“You’ve killed people before. Humans.”

He wished he could lie.

“Yes.”

Viktor was silent again but his gaze never left Yuuri. It was surprisingly sharp.

“You’re nervous, Yuuri.”

“Yes.”

“Because of me?”

“Yes.”

He was starting to sound like a broken record. But it got Viktor to move closer to him so he must be doing something right.

“Why is that?”

“I told you,” Yuuri forced out, voice strangled in his throat. “I don’t want to scare you. I don’t – I can’t have you leave.”

“And I told you I wouldn’t. Trust me, Yuuri.”

He couldn’t help the ugly snort that left him at the words. Viktor said that as if he didn’t know Yuuri had let him in more than he’d ever dared with anyone else for the entirety of his life.

“It’s not that I don’t. But I know how upset you were when you found out I was a vampire. I don’t want my being a killer to make it worse.”

Viktor reached out and pulled him into a hug, folding Yuuri against his larger frame with no hesitation whatsoever.

“It was never your nature itself that upset me, my Yuuri,” Viktor murmured, soft and soothing, into his ear. One of his arms was snug around Yuuri’s waist while the other ran up and down his back in gentle motions. He realized with a distinct sense of awe that Viktor was trying to comfort him.

“Oh,” he breathed, the sound lost in Viktor’s shoulder.

“I was sad that what we had was a lie. I was worried you only wanted me for my blood. I was _scared_ of the distance I could no longer ignore between us, a distance of lies and secrets. You erased that, Yuuri. You took the first step and gave me the courage to follow. I could never reject you, no matter what you are or what you do. Besides–” Viktor let out a faint laugh, the edges of his smile brushing against Yuuri’s face. “–we’ve established long ago that neither of us are doing what we should when it comes to the other. Don’t forget that now, Yuuri.”

Yuuri had to take several long moments to process that.

When the words really sunk in, he sagged in Viktor’s arms, making him stagger with the extra weight.

His barely beating vampire heart tried valiantly to speed up.

“You’re really alright with all this?”

“Yes. I won’t lie though. It all sounds like a story. Like it’s not real. I mean, I know, I know it’s real. But to me, the word vampire is limited to you. And the you I know is the person you are in this house of ours, the one who takes care of me so sweetly and looks at me like I’m something precious. He’s tangible and here. He’s my Yuuri. I do not know Enforcer Yuuri. Maybe…maybe I will one day. And yes, I could be scared then but I know that even so, I would not wish to run from you. I would never run from you.”

“You are something precious,” Yuuri said before he could stop himself. He felt more than heard Viktor’s happy sigh and reluctantly pulled away from the warmth of his embrace, only for that reluctance to shrivel into nothing when faced with the naked adoration on Viktor’s face.

Viktor was right. His view of Yuuri was heavily skewed by their soft existence in quiet Hasetsu.

But if Viktor had such faith in them, then Yuuri wouldn’t do him the disservice of believing any less.

“I’ll show you one day.” He raised his hand, which had wrapped around Viktor without Yuuri even realizing it, and cupped his cheek. “I’ll take you with me – country to country, continent to continent, and show you everything. And if you become scared, Vitya, I’ll kill that fear so thoroughly that you’ll never even remember you once felt it.”

And really, Yuuri didn’t think he’d said anything more impactful that Viktor’s own torrent of stirring sentiment but the look that dawned on his face, the dark-eyed, red-cheeked, heart-mouthed _joy_ , spoke otherwise.

“Yuuuuri!”

Viktor kissed him so suddenly that their teeth clacked together, not that it dissuaded either of them from going at each other with the same fervency always ran electric between them, sometimes subdued but now not, flowing from one pair of hungry lips to another, leaving muffled gasps and swallowed words in its wake.

Yuuri found himself pushed back until he was all but bent over the counter, Viktor’s arm a solid support around his middle. He shoved back and broke the kiss momentarily, smiling at Viktor’s protesting grunt, to hop onto the counter. He chased Viktor’s pout away with his mouth, nibbling at his plump bottom lip and wishing for the umpteenth time that he could taste everything from the chapped skin of his lips to the slick curl of his tongue.

The errant thought was enough, even with the distraction of Viktor’s mouth opening under his, to free his fangs with a soft snick, the edge of one tearing across Viktor’s lips as Yuuri tried and failed to pull back in time. Viktor didn’t let him, didn’t even seem to register the pain as he chased Yuuri’s mouth with a throaty moan, smearing warm blood on his lips and in his mouth as they kissed hard and frantic, the sour-sweet delight of Viktor’s blood coloring each one with an explosion of flavor that had Yuuri biting back a whimper and wrapping his legs around Viktor’s hips, clinging with all his might.

Viktor panted into his mouth, cut licked clean and accidentally healed, and Yuuri wasted no time nipping his way down his neck, fangs grazing soft skin and eliciting the sweetest shivers from the human holding him.

“Please,” Viktor cried above him, his hand fisting in Yuuri’s hair, pushing his mouth to his neck. “Yuuri, please.”

“It’s not–” _safe_ , he wanted to say, only to lose the word somewhere between the hollow of Viktor’s throat and the flirty flutter of his pulse. Viktor’s blood, hot and delicious and all Yuuri’s, was right there, under a delicate barrier of snow-soft skin.

He mouthed at a particularly inviting patch of flesh, lips curved over lengthened canines in some last semblance of control, only for even that to shatter spectacularly as Viktor _whined_ , fingers pulling painfully at Yuuri’s scalp. It was a plea and a demand both, and Yuuri, weak as always, gave in with a stifled groan, sinking just the tips of both fangs into Viktor.

It felt good, so good, and Yuuri didn’t know how he’d held back all these days when he had Viktor warm and willing near him. He tasted like a dream, a liquid elixir someone had custom crafted for Yuuri and only Yuuri. He lapped at the wound, shallow and bleeding sluggishly, desperately wanting more – wanting Viktor’s blood to flood his mouth, wanting Viktor to fall apart in his arms – but aware in the distant dregs of his rational thought that this was for the best, a reluctant compromise between _should_ s and _could_ s.

Viktor’s hands fell away from Yuuri and the sudden absence made him stop drinking, concern over Viktor winning out over never-ending hunger. He hadn’t taken much but it had also not even been a week since he properly fed on Viktor.

How much was too much?

When Yuuri closed the punctures with his tongue and drew back, Viktor was swaying on the spot, heavy-lidded and panting. He slumped forward onto Yuuri, held upright only by his support.

Yuuri carefully grabbed Viktor by the shoulders and slid off the kitchen counter, somehow managing to keep Viktor standing as he did. It took a bit of awkward maneuvering but he finally lowered Viktor to the floor and sat down beside him, one hand supporting his head.

He was finding it rather difficult to think, the potent combination of human blood and sheer arousal clogging his thoughts, and that was why it took him a whole minute to feel Viktor’s pulse. It was fast, thumping against his fingers in tandem with the galloping beat of Viktor’s heart.

Viktor’s eyes blinked open, immediately darting to Yuuri’s face, and a dopey smile stretched his lips.

The sight of it made something in Yuuri loosen.

In retrospect, feeding while Viktor was supporting most of their weight hadn’t been the most brilliant thing to do.

“Feel so good, Yuuri,” Viktor mumbled, voice hoarse as if he’d just woken from a deep sleep. Yuuri wanted to drink the sounds from his mouth.

“Me too,” he replied, bending to brush a kiss on Viktor’s forehead.

“Don’t wanna wait two weeks.” Viktor sounded so insistent that Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh. He couldn’t help but get a little harder either. There was a visible tent in Viktor’s pants as well.

“Me neither.”

Viktor suddenly heaved himself upright, almost toppling sideways into Yuuri as the motion made him dizzy. He balanced himself with a hand on Yuuri’s thigh and after a moment of studied stillness, turned to Yuuri with a bright grin.

“Promise?”

With the taste of Viktor still fresh on his tongue and the brilliance of his smile searing his eyes, Yuuri only had one answer to give.

“Yes.” It was so odd not knowing which one of them was getting the better bargain. Perhaps they both were and wasn’t that a grand idea? “I’ll drink from you. Whenever you – we – want. We’ll be careful. You’re so good, Vitya, so sweet, so sharp. You fill me up best.”

And yes, he knew how that sounded, heard it the moment the words left his mouth, but Viktor _lit up_ , so blindingly happy, and Yuuri didn’t have the heart to regret anything.

It was true anyway.

He stood and helped Viktor up, unable to keep himself from kissing him again, both of them giggling in between each playful kiss. Their erections were miraculously flagging as the rush of the feeding session faded and Yuuri was glad for the lack of distraction.

Arms around each other, they shambled off into the bedroom for a good round of cuddling before lunch.

If telling Viktor his secrets always ended like this, then Yuuri would gladly strip himself bare for this beautiful, impossible man who always met him where he was.

 

* * *

 

Viktor was recovering well.

Yuuri had eased up on the morning runs without fully stopping them ever since that first and only proper feeding, not wanting to strain Viktor who had tired easily even before he lost all that blood. Now he had Viktor sprawled and panting on wet sand, flushed and sweaty and glowing with it in the mild morning light. He looked good and healthy, maybe a little paler than he should be but Yuuri was sure that didn’t have much to do with the few nibbles he’d sneaked in since the kitchen incident. He had barely taken any blood during those. Just tasting Viktor was enough for him and Viktor in turn seemed to relish the bite itself. It was a good arrangement – too good to be true, it felt like.

Yuuri plopped down beside Viktor, smiling when he immediately rolled over on top of him, rubbing his heated skin along Yuuri’s much cooler body and sighing happily.

“Old man,” Yuuri snarked, poking at Viktor’s hair whorl. Viktor whimpered into his neck, raising his head with palpable reluctance to frown at him.

“That’s mean, Yuuri. And you have no room to talk, Mr. Vampire.”

He smirked, pressed a quick kiss to the jut of Viktor’s lips, and hauled them both into a sitting position, Viktor’s complaining grumble quieted when Yuuri pulled him into the space between his legs and hugged him close.

In front of them, Hasetsu’s ocean glittered blue and beautiful as far the eyes could see. Gentle waves lapped at their feet, never wetting more than their ankles.

In his arms, Viktor was utterly relaxed.

All their runs had been on the beach between Viktor’s hesitance to venture into more populated areas and Yuuri’s eagerness to keep his human to himself. But today was the first time they’d come close enough to touch the water.

And as lovely as this moment was, Yuuri couldn’t stop thinking about the first and last time he’d seen Viktor in the ocean.

“Vitya?”

Viktor tipped his head back against Yuuri’s shoulder and hummed in question. He looked so happy that Yuuri almost didn’t want to ask what he was about to.

“Does it…bother you? The ocean?”

Yuuri felt his own body tense of its own volition, tight with the awareness that he was treading uncharted waters. They’d never once addressed that night directly. Viktor seemed to avoid the topic like the plague and Yuuri was content to let him, more invested in having Viktor with him than in how he got there.

And sure enough, Viktor turned his head so that most of it was hidden in Yuuri’s shoulder and the rest was covered by the gleaming silver of his hair.

“You don’t–” Yuuri started to say and stopped just as quick, his tongue an awkward weight between his teeth. He chose instead to rub soothing circles into Viktor’s firm stomach, warm under a thin layer of cloth.

“I don’t mind,” Viktor spoke after an eternity. He sighed heavily, his whole body lifting with the sound, and pulled away from Yuuri who let him go with uncertainty clawing at the edges of his thoughts. But Viktor didn’t go far, only shifting around on the sand so that he was sitting beside Yuuri, their shoulders brushing with each of Viktor’s breaths.

“I’ve always liked the ocean,” Viktor continued, gaze set on the horizon. “Did you know I only saw this one in the daylight after coming to you, Yuuri? It’s gorgeous. And the seagulls in the morning remind me of St. Petersburg. I never thought I’d leave that city. And then one morning, I wanted to be anywhere but there. Now, here I am, with a beautiful man who wants me to stay by him. It’s not how I thought my life would turn out but I’m not complaining.”

Yuuri wasn’t a fool. He knew that Viktor was neatly avoiding the original question.

Yuuri was a fool for this man though. If Viktor wanted to brush off that incident with nothing but a detached _I don’t mind_ , then Yuuri would let it go. And if Viktor wanted to distract him with a glimpse into his old life, then Yuuri would let himself be distracted.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said carefully, watching some of the tension bleed out from Viktor’s body. He reached over to slide his arm around Viktor’s waist and was pleased when he scooted closer, shooting Yuuri a close-lipped smile as they once again sat pressed closer than was publicly appropriate.

Absently tracing patterns on Viktor’s thigh, Yuuri thought of his words.

He didn’t doubt that Viktor was happy to be with him. He didn’t know what had prompted him to flee Russia and try to drown himself in a no-name town in Japan and he had a feeling no answers would be forthcoming on that subject just yet. Viktor, for all that he gave himself freely to Yuuri, clutched his past close to him with a determination that bordered on desperation, only revealing little bits and pieces that painted a muddled picture of endless contradiction.

Yuuri didn’t intend to force anything but despite hearing that Viktor had no complaints, he had to wonder if a human who’d once been a celebrity athlete was truly content to stay cooped up inside a single storey house with only a vampire for company.

Yuuri’s breaks, rare things that were usually the result of persuasion from either Minako or more recently Phichit, were always designed with seclusion in mind. They were quiet and boring, meant to leave Yuuri alone with his thoughts until he could no longer stand them, and then it was back to flitting from place to place wearing a reaper’s face.

Long months in the sleepy peace of Hastesu was perfect for him but was it the same for Viktor who was bright and brilliant and human?

“Are you really?” Yuuri asked before he could chicken out of it with excuses. This wasn’t the first time this thought had crossed his mind. Somehow, it was easier to say them out loud in the open, salt-scented air than in the cozy confines of their home. He saw Viktor turn to look at him from the corner of his eye but he kept staring straight ahead. “Not complaining, I mean. Are you…bored?”

There was a beat of silence before Viktor’s indignant _Yuuri!_ sliced through it, easing some of the tightness coiled inside Yuuri with the sheer force of its outrage.

“Of course not! I’m _happy_ ,” Viktor insisted, gripping Yuuri’s chin with his fingers and turning it to face him. Viktor was scowling but there was disarming earnestness written into the lines of his face.

“I’m glad,” Yuuri told him honestly, not trying to hide his relief. “But you know, if you want, we could…go out. Together. Do, um, things. It’s been a while since I’ve been to the onsen and I know you liked it there too.”

He really didn’t know where most of that even came from because heaven knew Yuuri was the last person who would willingly go out in town with no real reason but once the words were out, he could see their appeal.

Judging by the gaping delight creeping over Viktor’s face, so could he.

“Yuuuuuri,” Viktor cried, drawling Yuuri’s name in a way that made him shiver. “Are you asking me out?”

That had not been his intention. But–

Well, why not?

“Yes,” he blurted before he could think better of it. “That’s absolutely what I meant.”

Viktor thankfully didn’t detect the blatant lie but on the flip side, his expression had sobered and become thoughtful.

“I only went once but I did like the onsen. I’m sure it’d be better with you beside me. I don’t really like going out though.”

“That’s fine, we can stay in. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

That was common sense as far as Yuuri was concerned but Viktor shot him a look so soft that it made those words feel like the most important ones to ever pass his lips.

It was gone the next moment as Viktor smiled a saccharine smile that Yuuri had grown to recognize as trouble.

“Funny how that doesn’t apply when you’re dragging me out of bed in the morning to make me run.”

By the time Yuuri registered that rapid, perfectly deadpan delivery, Viktor was on his feet and sprinting across the beach, shouting _Race you home!_ over his shoulders.

“It’s for your own good,” Yuuri yelled after him, jumping to his feet

The sunlight prickled uncomfortably along his skin, the heat growing, and Yuuri huffed to himself before giving in and chasing Viktor.

 

* * *

 

“You’re inhuman,” Viktor panted later, one hand braced against the front door and the other clutching his chest.

Yuuri watched him with no small amount of amusement.

“I am well aware, thank you.” The glare Viktor shot him would have been more intimidating if it wasn’t half-hidden by sweat-soaked clumps of hair. “You’re the one who wanted a race.”

“I would have won too,” came the answering grumble. “I even had a head start.”

“Don’t race a vampire,” Yuuri advised sagely, not yet moving to help Viktor as he sank into a puddle on the floor.

“You’re not even breathing hard,” Viktor tried to whine though it came out a wheeze what with the way he was still gulping in air. Yuuri understood, he really did. It wasn’t too far from where they had been on the beach to the house but they’d been running on sand and Viktor had already been tired.

“I don’t really need to breathe at all.”

Viktor made a sound that may have been a whimper and Yuuri finally took pity on him, bending down and hauling him upright. Viktor happily threw his arms around Yuuri, no hard feelings about the lost race when it came to physical contact. He smelled of salt and sweat and Yuuri didn’t think he was being all that subtle as he nosed into the side of Viktor’s neck and sucked in a generous breath.

He wasn’t sure whether he’d ever found the smell of sweat attractive before but now, it felt like it enhanced Viktor’s natural scent.

Viktor just pressed his neck closer to Yuuri’s face, helpful as ever.

“Do you want me to carry you?” Yuuri offered, more to appease any potential pouting than because Viktor actually needed it.

“Yes!” Viktor beamed as he pulled back, excited and expectant.

He was too cute. It was dangerous.

Yuuri opened the door before sweeping Viktor into his arms and walking inside, kicking the door shut behind him. Viktor was a solid weight in his hold, more so than his lean body suggested, and he clung tight to Yuuri, eyes a little wide with wonder.

“Wow,” he breathed when Yuuri set him down on the couch, not without regret. “So strong, my Yuuri.”

Yuuri tried very hard not to preen.

“So strong and such _stamina_ ,” Viktor continued, an unholy light in his eyes. Yuuri froze. “Just imagine all the things you could do with it, Y _uu_ ri.”

“I’ll get you some water,” he squeaked out and fled the room before Viktor said anything more on that vein that would convince Yuuri to join him on the couch and indulge in activities that absolutely would not help Viktor catch his breath.

When he returned, maybe taking a little longer than needed, Viktor was stretching on the floor, the muscles of his limbs pulled enticingly taut. Yuuri watched from the doorway, wishing he could take a gulp of the water if only to curb the intense need to take a bite out of Viktor.

Viktor turned to him when he finished, the knowing smile on his face making Yuuri fear for the sanctity of his thoughts. He wordlessly handed Viktor the bottle and stared a little too intently as his pretty, pretty lips wrapped around the opening.

“I’m worried,” Viktor said after guzzling nearly half the bottle. Yuuri blinked in confusion.

“About going out,” he clarified, glancing at Yuuri for a second before turning away to fiddle with the bottle cap. “I don’t know how reasonable it is but every time I go out, I have this fear that I’ll be recognized and then someone will post of it on social media and everyone…everyone will know. That’s why I only go out to get groceries and only at night. I don’t – I can’t–”

He shrugged, curling into himself and dropping to the couch.

As much as Yuuri wanted to reassure Viktor that the chances of him being spotted in Hasetsu of all places was next to none, he remembered very well that it had been Yuuko’s enthusiasm for figure skating that had exposed him to Viktor in the first place. He also had no real idea how far Viktor’s fame extended except that it was more than was typical of a retired figure skater.

And all that aside, Yuuri understood better than most the power of paranoia. Until Viktor crashed into his life, Yuuri had been one of the most unnecessarily cautious people he’d known.

“How famous are you?” Yuuri settled on asking.

“Pretty famous,” Viktor said with a rueful smile. “I used to be big deal when I was competing and I also did a little modeling work on the side that continued after I retired. And when I took up coaching and choreographing, my first skater went on a gold medal sweep which ended up putting me in the spotlight again. I imagine there was some surprise when I up and vanished. I don’t know the details. I keep those concerned updated but otherwise, I stay away from social media.”

Yuuri whistled, impressed.

“And to think I have you all to myself here. Did I steal Viktor Nikiforov from the world?”

Viktor really was lovely when he blushed and this time, the pink tinge was accompanied by a distinctly pleased expression that did things to Yuuri’s listless heart.

“You can keep him. Actually, I insist that you do.”

Yuuri dropped to his knees on the floor in front of Viktor, taking both of his hands in his. He brushed a kiss to the tip of each finger, nipping at the last one.

“I intend to,” he promised, resting his cheek on Viktor’s knee. “You’re mine, Vitya.”                    

“Good,” Viktor replied and then frowned. “That doesn’t fix the problem of our outing though. I want to do it, really. I want to go out with you. It’s just–”

“I wouldn’t have pushed you if you didn’t want to do it but if you do, then I might have a solution.”

It was kind of an unconventional idea but Yuuri vividly recalled young Viktor with his long hair and half-skirts and thought it might not be too odd for him.

And sure enough, when Yuuri went digging through the boxes buried in his closet and emerged with a long brown wig, mascara and eyebrow liner, Viktor’s reaction was nothing but favorable. He was so beautiful when he smiled like that.

“Yuuuuri,” he crowed, running his hands through the wig. “Are these yours?”

“Who else? I wear it sometimes when I go hunting. I can pass as a woman well enough and I like that.”

He didn’t think it was a big deal but Viktor kept looking at him in a way that made him squirm.

“How are you so amazing?” Viktor whispered after a lengthy pause, effectively killing the first stirrings of uncertainty and making Yuuri duck his head.

“I’m not? Anyway, this should be enough of a disguise, right?”

Viktor didn’t even seem to be listening.

“Can I see?” he asked, holding the wig out to Yuuri with such an adorably pleading expression that Yuuri could do nothing but agree.

As always, the extra hair felt weird at first. Yuuri combed out the strands in front of the mirror while Viktor watched in the background, practically bouncing with excitement. He didn’t bother with any make-up but when he turned to face Viktor, he still made a choked little sound in his throat that had Yuuri torn between concern and satisfaction.

“Like it, Vitya?

Viktor gaped. Yuuri stepped forward and gently closed his mouth, giving it a little peck as he did.

“Yuuri,” Viktor groaned into the scant space between their lips. “Oh my god, _Yuuri_ , you’re so pretty.”

He smiled, small and shy, and kissed Viktor again.

“Not as pretty as you,” he replied honestly, pulling back to stare into stunning blue eyes that could put any jewel to shame. Viktor’s protest fell on deaf ears. “Your turn now.”

Unlike Yuuri, Viktor looked distinctly masculine even with the wig and his pale brows and lashes contrasted sharply with the dark color of the wig. But that was what the mascara and eyebrow liner were for and after a generous application of both, Viktor looked less like Viktor Nikiforov, silver fox celebrity, and more like a very handsome foreigner with nice brown hair.

“It’ll do,” Yuuri declared, standing beside Viktor before the bathroom mirror, both of them studying the latter’s reflection.

Viktor nodded, reaching up to finger a strand.

Yuuri wondered if he ever missed his own long hair.

“You look good,” Yuuri said when Viktor showed no signs of speaking. “Very, uh, very good.”

That got Viktor’s attention and he turned to Yuuri, still not speaking as he pulled Yuuri into a deep kiss that stole the remaining air in his lungs and left him dazed by the time he was released.

“It’s perfect,” Viktor said, lips brushing Yuuri’s. “You’re perfect.”

Yuuri wanted to protest that that made no sense but he’d forgotten to breathe _again_ and by the time he pulled in some air, Viktor was turning away and taking off the wig.

“I’ll get off work early. Yuuko won’t mind. Do you know where the rink is or shall I pick you up here?”

“I don’t actually. But it seems a waste for you to walk all the way back here when we could be soaking in the hot springs instead.”

Maybe it was odd that he didn’t know where Hasetsu’s sole ice rink was but Yuuri had surmised by this point that figure skating was a complicated topic for Viktor.

“It’s fine, we have time. Yu-topia stays open till ten. We’ll walk there together.”

“It’ll be romantic!” Viktor exclaimed, mouth blooming into a precious heart and Yuuri, who had never managed anything remotely resembling romance in his four or so centuries of existence, just nodded like the besotted fool he was proud to be.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri had made a grave mistake.

It was all fine and dandy to plan a nice soak in the onsen with Viktor but somehow, in the whirlwind of the day, he’d forgotten to consider that it would involve being naked alongside Viktor in chest-deep water that left very little to the imagination.

He’d done his best to avert his eyes, mostly because he did not want to get into the water with an unsightly problem between his legs. But even his best efforts didn’t save him from catching a glimpse of Viktor’s perfectly sculpted backside.

It was so beautiful. And touchable. And bitable.

And fuckable.

Yuuri whimpered.

Viktor paused with one leg in the water to send him a smirk that was dripping sex.

It got a little better once they were both in the onsen and Yuuri happily let himself be absorbed in the soothing heat creeping into his skin. There weren’t a lot of things that could make him feel well and truly warm down to the hollow of his bones but hot springs were one of those things. Now, immersed in the outdoor onsen with only Viktor for company, Yuuri was starkly reminded that Yu-topia had a significant role to play in his extended stay at Hasetsu.

Then Viktor threw his arm around his shoulders and pulled Yuuri to his side and all of a sudden, everything was a bit too hot.

“Vitya,” Yuuri groaned, only to clamp his mouth shut when he ended up sounding unintentionally erotic. “Are you doing this on purpose?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Yuuri!” Viktor lied enthusiastically, nuzzling his cheek into Yuuri’s hair.

Yuuri took a deep breath and made a concentrated effort to focus only on the pleasant sensation of soaking.

“This feels so good,” Viktor sighed, sinking a little deeper into the water. The folded towel on his head slipped a bit and Yuuri reached up to straighten it.

“Mm. I missed this.”

“Did you come here often?”

“Yeah, I guess. Once a week usually. I like hot springs. They’re pretty relaxing even for my kind.”

Viktor hummed and without warning, skimmed his hand down Yuuri’s side, pinching the skin of his waist playfully. Yuuri yelped but didn’t move away. He did swat Viktor on his chest in reproach, only to have it backfire when his hand slid over the wet skin in an accidental grope. Viktor didn’t at all mind if his widening smile was any indication.

Yuuri took his hand back before it could be tempted into any more unauthorized exploration.

“You do feel very warm,” Viktor said, fingers now rubbing at the skin they’d pinched. Yuuri didn’t know if the red on his cheeks was because of the heat or all the bare body contact.

“It won’t last long once we’re out. But it’s still nice.”

They were silent for a while, Viktor’s eyes slipping closed while Yuuri snuck glances at him from the corner of his eyes. They were still pressed together from hip to shoulder but that wasn’t too bad when Yuuri was sufficiently engaged with examining how relaxed Viktor seemed now, a far cry from the stiffness with which he’d carried himself all the way from their house to Yu-topia. He’d been uncharacteristically silent too, his grip on Yuuri’s hand growing tighter with every step they’d taken towards their destination.

Yet he’d rejected the offer to turn back and spend the night inside, marching on with a steely expression that made Yuuri wonder if this whole thing was more than a simple outing to Viktor.

But it’d been fine. The only unsolicited attention they got was from the few others in the onsen who’d been scandalized by the hickeys covering Viktor’s neck.

“This is my first date,” Yuuri found himself saying, startling even himself. Viktor opened his eyes, blue and curious.

He licked his lips and shrugged, sinking a little deeper.

“I’ve…never really pursued romance? Never saw the appeal. No courtships. No dating. You’re the first.”

And he knew it was worth pushing past the awkwardness and embarrassment to say those words when Viktor ate them up with a smile and an elated _Yuuri!_ that pierced through the drowsy quietness of the onsen.

“Ssh,” Yuuri reprimanded without bite, placing a finger against Viktor’s lips and grinning uncontrollably they puckered against it in a cute kiss.

“I’m glad we came,” Viktor whispered, taking Yuuri’s hand and pressing his mouth to its back. A strand of brown hair fell forward to his cheek and Yuuri raised his other hand to tuck it behind Viktor’s ear, letting his palm rest on his cheek afterward.

Sometime during it all, he’d shifted so that he was facing Viktor, both hands on his face and mere inches between their bodies.

It wasn’t the most appropriate position but they stayed like that until it was time to get out.

Viktor smiled all the while.

 

* * *

 

Rei treated Yuuri’s first ever dining experience in Yu-topia like a personal gift and extended her fawning over to Viktor who endured it with a politely puzzled smile. She spoke enough English to communicate to him that it was Yuuri’s first time dining here and how good it was to see him with company. Yuuri ducked his head, hiding from them both, though not before he caught the knowing look on Viktor’s face.

Viktor asked for the house special and Yuuri did the same, not looking forward to the experience but knowing he had no choice but to force down something. He dreaded throwing it up later.

The house special turned out to be katsudon which Viktor cooed over while Yuuri explained pork cutlet bowls with the help of a quick Google search. It really did look and smell divine, so much so that Yuuri wished, unfortunately not for the first time, that he could at least taste human food.

It was almost as good to see Viktor beam after the very first bite, shouting _Vkusno!_ with such genuine enthusiasm that even Chiyoko, sprawled two tables away, shot them a smile.

Yuuri also took a bite from his pork, chewing and swallowing with his best approximation of an appreciative expression. It tasted like solid water, bland and boring. He tried to think of Viktor’s blood on his tongue and suddenly, it wasn’t as hard to fake it.

Despite the other patrons’ obvious curiosity over the new foreigner, their sense of propriety prevented prying and Viktor was left alone save for a few glances. He muttered to Yuuri in between bites that it had been the same the last time he’d been here and how that evening had been far less fun because he had been alone with delicious food he could barely taste.

He clearly didn’t have that problem this time around. Yuuri thought he could be excused for forgetting the unappetizing bowl in front of him when it was so much more enjoyable to watch Viktor devour his katsudon with such unimpaired delight, making happy noises that sent shudders down Yuuri’s spine.

He could also be excused for feeding his own katsudon to Viktor in little bites that the other accepted with gusto, pretty pink lips closing around Yuuri’s chopsticks.

In the end, they stayed almost until closing time, waiting for Viktor’s visibly bulging stomach to calm down a little. He slumped against Yuuri even as they got up, hiding yawns in the palm of his hand.

Yuuri was more than happy to have a reason to hold on to him, not that either of them really needed a reason.

“Thank you, Rei-san,” Yuuri said as he paid, Viktor parroting the words in clumsy Japanese.

Rei smiled and patted Yuuri’s hand.

“I’m happy you’ve found yourself such a handsome boy, Yuuri-kun.”

And there really wasn’t anything he could say to that except stutter and smile and bow and drag Viktor away before Rei found the words to repeat the same in English.

 

* * *

 

“Best date ever,” Viktor declared with enviable certainty as they ambled along the coast, sea and sand both drenched in moonlight.

“Really?” he asked, trying and failing to mask his doubt. “I find that hard to believe. You must have had your fair share of dates.”

“Why would you say that?”

There was a frown in Viktor’s voice and on his face and Yuuri wanted to kick himself.

“Because you’re so beautiful,” he answered honestly. “Like a dream come to life. How can anyone not want you?”

Yuuri thanked his vampirism for allowing him to see the flush creeping over Viktor’s face even in this pale light. The frown was washed away with it, replaced with a smile so small that it might be called shy.

“You can’t just say things like that, Yuuri.”

“It’s the truth!”

Viktor shook his head, still smiling, and stopped walking. Yuuri, who’d been walking backwards a few feet in front of him, also stopped and stepped closer.

“The public had me pegged as some kind of suave playboy. Everyone wanted him. But after a while, I got tired of all the expectations. Eventfully, I stopped trying to find someone.”

“Oh.” Yuuri tried to imagine that but couldn’t. The sentiment wasn’t surprising though. It fit right into the fractured picture in Yuuri’s mind of the life Viktor used to lead. All the same, hearing it made something in him unwind. “Is it bad that I’m happy to know you never found anyone because then you wouldn’t be here with me?”

It was a stupid question. Of course it was bad and even Viktor looked shocked for an instant. But before Yuuri could regret saying anything, Viktor chuckled and hugged him, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he did.

“Maybe. But I don’t care. There’s nowhere I’d rather be but by your side. That’s what made this date the best, you know? The fact that it was you and I was your Vitya, not Viktor Nikiforov.”

“You know all I want is you, just you.”

“Well, the katsudon helped,” Viktor added after a thoughtful pause, breaking the moment and making Yuuri push him away, too busy laughing to pretend at being cross.

He didn’t know who kissed who but they somehow ended up in a tangle on the sand, Viktor’s tongue in his mouth as they clutched at each other’s clothes and ground together with barely contained fervor that promised more to come.

It was Viktor who found the sense to pull away, gasping against Yuuri’s throat.

“Home. We’re not doing this here. Take me home, Yuuri.”

And so he did, scrambling up with difficulty and adjusting himself in his jeans, not even ashamed because he could see Viktor doing the same. They rushed home, not as fast as they could thanks to their mutual inability to keep their hands to themselves. By the time they got there, the urgency of earlier had cooled into something soft and simmering.

“I’ll go shower,” Viktor murmured in between dropping fluttering kisses all over Yuuri’s face. “I’ll just – yeah.”

He pulled away reluctantly, biting his lip with what may have been nervousness or anticipation. Yuuri himself couldn’t distinguish between the two. His erection had softened but arousal still sizzled through his blood. He stood there in the entryway even as the water started up in the bathroom. He tried very hard not to imagine Viktor under the spray, skin wet and bare.

It was the unpleasant twinge in his stomach that finally made him move and even that was only because he didn’t want that bit of pork to make its appearance at some severely inopportune moment.

If nothing else, being bent over the toilet as he hacked and coughed to push out the last of the meat from his throat did a very thorough job of stopping him from drooling over images of Viktor in the shower.

It was a while before he got out, pork ejected and mouth cleaned, and the shower had stopped by then.

He paused with his hand on the bedroom door. He could hear Viktor inside, his breaths deep and slow but his heart rushing ahead. Yuuri didn’t know if they were going to do something tonight. It seemed to be headed that way at the beach and foyer but they’d both carefully shied away from anything more than kissing and some groping until now and Yuuri really didn’t know what was going to happen.

Only one thing was certain and that was that he wanted Viktor and would always want him, sex or no sex.

He opened the door and–

–and stared.

Viktor was sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes set on the door and now on Yuuri. He was clad in a robe, deep red and silky, that gaped over his chest and left one long leg peeking out from its slit.

Yuuri, rooted to the spot and numb with shock, helplessly looked on as Viktor, blushing and determined, held out his arms in an obvious invitation.

Shock vanished, replaced by sheer, overwhelming desire, and Yuuri was across the room in a flash, stepping into the welcoming space between Viktor’s legs and bending to catch his mouth in a kiss.

Viktor responded eagerly, twining his arms around Yuuri’s neck and burying fingers in his hair, nails scraping along his scalp as their lips moved against each other, gentle and hungry.

“What is this?” Yuuri murmured, pulling back and slipping the robe off one pale shoulder.

“Well, I wanted to seduce you.” Viktor shrugged off the silk so that it pooled at his waist, stark against the white of the sheets. “I just happened to have this with me.”

Yuuri, too busy taking in the dusty pink of Viktor’s firm nipples and the defined lines of his muscles, took a while to respond.

“You don’t need to seduce me. I have – I was seduced a long time ago.”

“Ah, but I’m a perfectionist, Yuuri.”

Yuuri laughed, a little incredulous, and kissed Viktor again, licking into his mouth and sucking on his tongue, shivering at the breathy moan it elicited. He somehow managed to keep their mouths connected as he pushed Viktor further up the bed and climbed after him, the two of them inevitable ending up tangled together on the mattress. Viktor was almost out of the robe now and Yuuri knew without asking, without looking, that Viktor was naked under it.

He drew back, lips tingling from Viktor’s teeth, and started unbuttoning his shirt. It was Viktor who pushed it off his shoulders, his hands caressing the skin revealed with only a little hesitance.  

“Like what you see?” Yuuri asked, not really needing an answer but wanting one anyway because this was Viktor and gods knew Yuuri had never wanted anything more than for Viktor to want him.

The response was vigorous nodding, Viktor’s hands all the more certain as they explored Yuuri’s chest.

Yuuri looked down at the milky expanse of Viktor’s skin, marred only by the red and purple bruises at his neck, and was seized by the urge to sink his teeth into every single centimeter of it so that Viktor couldn’t so much as twitch without feeling Yuuri’s claim on him.

Under him, Viktor made a strangled sound. His eyes, when Yuuri made himself look at them, were wide and almost black. He seemed unduly flustered.

“Did I…say that out loud?”

“Yes.” Viktor licked his lips and reached with slightly trembling hands to undo the sash of his robe. It fell apart around him, framing him in vivid crimson. “You can.”

“Can what?” Yuuri asked absently, torn between staring at the unbridled lust on Viktor’s face and the physical manifestation of the same between his legs.

Curiosity won in the end.

Even his cock was pretty, long and hard and pink all over.

Yuuri regretted not changing out of his jeans when he had the chance. They were starting to hurt.

“Mark me,” Viktor said, voice low and thick with intent. “All over, all the time. I’d let you. I want you to.”

Something in Yuuri clenched, hot and vicious, and he knew that his eyes had turned red. After all this time, Viktor was unfazed. He reached up to stroke under the delicate skin of Yuuri’s eyes with his thumb and drew a line of fire down to his lips. Yuuri opened them and took the thumb between his teeth, biting down with defanged canines. It still made Viktor’s squirm.

“Yuuri,” he complained, free hand pawing at his jeans. “This isn’t fair. _Off_. I want to see.”

He huffed and clambered off the bed, taking off his jeans and underwear as quickly as possible. He turned to see Viktor propped up on his elbows and leering unabashedly at him.

He wasn’t ethereally lovely like Viktor who was as close to perfect as anyone could be. Yuuri had been turned while his body was barely more than skin and bones and even four centuries worth of effort had only done so much to bulk it up. He’d never particularly liked being under scrutiny but there was something about the way Viktor was looking at him, with eyes dark and mouth parted and pure want etched into every inch of his face, that made him think he wouldn’t mind it at all if this man kept looking at him and only him for the rest of eternity.

He returned to the bed, crawling over to Viktor to situate himself back between his legs, Viktor’s thighs warm around his knees. Viktor yanked him down into a kiss that was tooth-meltingly sweet, just open mouths moving together with restrained passion. Yuuri pulled back just enough to speak and look in Viktor’s eyes as he did. His hands hovered uncertainly over the smooth sea of skin under him.

“Do you – I could – can I take care of you, Vitya?”

Viktor’s eyes fluttered. He nodded, smiling.

“Anything you want, my Yuuri.”

That was a very long list but right now, he just wanted to make Viktor feel good.

He pecked Viktor on the lips before trailing soft, swift kisses along his cheeks and jaw, skipping his neck altogether to let himself retain a measure of control as he pressed his mouth to the firm muscle of Viktor’s chest. His body was hot under his lips. Viktor shivered, possibly from the coolness of Yuuri’s touches. He smiled against the skin and started brushing open-mouthed kisses along every bit of it that he could reach.

The first flick of tongue against a nipple made Viktor jolt under him, one hand coming to grip Yuuri’s shoulder, not pushing or pulling, just holding on hard. He took the nub into his mouth and sucked, caressing the other with his hand, and was rewarded with the sounds Viktor made above him, little choked things that seemed to be torn out of his throat.

Yuuri sat up abruptly, wanting more than anything to see Viktor, and it turned out to be a very wise decision because Viktor already looked gloriously debauched; silver hair a messy halo around his face, pupils blown so wide as to swallow the blue and blushing red down to his chest. Yuuri’s gaze was stuck on the flush. It looked so good that he momentarily mourned his own inability to do anything of the sort and then even that errant thought was washed away in a fresh wave of lust.

Just when he thought he couldn’t possible want Viktor any more, the man proved him wrong.

“Yuuri,” Viktor whined under him, an insistent wiggle of his hips punctuating the words. “You’re just staring.”

“I can’t help it,” Yuuri replied, voice made deep by the need flooding his veins. “You’re too beautiful.”

Viktor’s breath hitched, his blush deepening.

“So beautiful,” Yuuri repeated, his awe showing. Viktor’s cock jerked, its head peeking out of his foreskin, the tip already wet.

Yuuri filed that away for future reference. His present self was a little too preoccupied with the way Viktor, clearly having grown tired of waiting, was moving his hips against Yuuri’s, their cocks slipping and sliding together clumsily, the friction nowhere near enough. It felt too good to stop and Yuuri happily postponed his plans for Viktor’s skin in favor of bracing himself against the bed and grinding down, burying a groan into the meat of Viktor’s shoulder.

Both of Viktor’s hands were on his back now, blunt fingers digging into skin as they ground against each other, gasps and swallowed moans clouding the air. Yuuri latched onto a mouthful of flesh, grinning as wide as he could around it as Viktor cried out and jerked under him in what was at this point a Pavlovian response. He didn’t bite, keeping his fangs firmly under control. He needed Viktor clear-headed and _here_.

“Yuuri, Yuuri, touch me,” Viktor said urgently, twisting under Yuuri in delicious ways. “Yuuuuri.”

“I am touching you,” Yuuri said through a laugh that got him a distinctly unimpressed groan as answer. He couldn’t resist kissing the pout on Viktor’s lips, smiling when it dissolved under his mouth. But he didn’t notice a warm hand reaching between them to take hold of both their cocks, not until the sudden pressure ripped a shout from his throat.

He broke the kiss and found Viktor wearing a distinctly smug expression. His hand was dry where it sat snug around their dicks, squeezing lightly.

“Asshole,” Yuuri panted, moving his hips in aborted motions.

Viktor smiled angelically and ran a finger down the side of Yuuri’s cock, flicking the head before it withdrew. Yuuri shivered.

“Fine, fine. I’ll touch you.”

He held out his palm to Viktor who licked a long, wet stripe along the middle. He reached down like Viktor had and took both their erections in hand, wrapping it as best as he could around them both. It felt good to be pressed so intimately to Viktor, their lengths held together tight. Yuuri jerked them off, unable to take his eyes off his hand and their joined cocks as he kept up a slow rhythm.

It was Viktor’s strained grunt that snapped his gaze back up and a moan was punched out of his chest at the sight of his human wide-eyed and panting, mouth open to let out breathy gasps that harmonized perfectly with the slick sounds of flesh on flesh.

“Faster,” Viktor demanded and Yuuri was only too glad to comply, leaning back for better leverage as he moved his hand faster and faster, hissing from between clenched teeth as it started to burn.

He came first and easily, over a month of building want and no release effectively killing his stamina to have him snap and shudder against Viktor, collapsing onto him with a cry as his cock jerked in his hands. He let go and wrapped his hand solely around Viktor’s dick, ignoring his soft noise of shock. He blinked away the stars in his vision and focused on Viktor’s slack-jawed face, moving and twisting his wrist and cataloguing each tick and twitch of the man under him, learning him and his pleasure until Viktor also let go, muffling himself with his hand as he coated Yuuri’s fingers and their bodes with his come.

Yuuri moved to sit beside Viktor as the latter came down from his high. He tentatively licked at the white splatter on his hand. It tasted like nothing and it shouldn’t have been a disappointment since Yuuri’s body wasn’t about to magically change because he found a human to obsess over but somehow, it still stung.

Having Viktor stare at him with an expression that said he’d ascended and was hanging around somewhere in the border between worlds was a pretty good consolation price though.

“You didn’t come.”

Yuuri wasn’t too surprised that those were the first words out of Viktor’s mouth. There were many reasons why vampires and humans having sex was unwise. Freak biology was one.

“Sure I did.”

He pointedly glanced at his drooping dick. Viktor did as well only to snap his gaze back to Yuuri with a blend of confusion and dejection – mostly dejection – on his face.

“I did come,” Yuuri assured him gently. He’d do anything to get that look off Viktor’s face. “I don’t ejaculate, that’s all. It’s a vampire thing. I mean, I am mostly dead so…”

There was a flash of surprise on Viktor’s face that was replaced by what could only be called relief.

“Oh. That’s…okay. It was good for you then?”

“It was great, Vitya. And you – were you –”

“It was lovely. Practice makes perfect though!”

Yuuri had to laugh at that, leaning down to brush his nose against Viktor’s. There was relief of his own bubbling up inside.

“Well, I wouldn’t dare argue against that.”

Viktor kissed him, light and chaste.

“I’ll get something to clean us up,” Yuuri told him as he drew back but Viktor caught his arm before he could leave the bed. Yuuri’s questioning look was answered with the suggestive tilt of Viktor’s head.

The gesture was very, very familiar.

Yuuri’s fangs slid out.

“Vitya…”

“Yuuri, bite me?”

He didn’t need to be asked twice.

Viktor’s skin gave easily under his teeth, welcoming him in like an old friend.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here’s a little poll: I’m torn between starting a smutty fae AU, an angsty superpowers AU, a bittersweet youkai AU and a weird demon AU. Any preferences? [You can find (vague) details here](http://voxofthevoid.tumblr.com/post/165519994976/yoi-plot-bunnies) at #1, #2 , #9 and #12.
> 
> Also, I was going to post a snippet on why I gave Yuuri that job but the half-meta, half-drabble I wrote for it ended up being very spoilery for certain events on the latter half of this fic. So for now I’ll just say that he was directionless and self-destructive and Minako thought he’d benefit from an outlet for all that restlessness.


	8. i'm your servant, my immortal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor gets wrecked in more ways than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone, for all the feedback last chapter. The majority of you seem to favor the demon fic and I’m excited to get to work on that one. It’s projected to be fairly short in terms of chapter length – maybe 7? – and let’s hope it stays that way.
> 
> And a huge shout-out to [stillmadaboutpetra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillmadaboutpetra) for reading this over. They bravely vanquished typos and pointed out a grievous lack of commas and is also generally cool af. My dude, I’m glad I met you ~~even if you’re an unapologetic enabler.~~

His torso was more red than white.

Yuuri had made good on his words soon after their first fumbling in the sheets. Everything from hip down was mostly unmarred because Yuuri tended to get…distracted when he got that far but from neck to dick, Viktor was one big mess of bruises that left him unable to so much as twitch without something twinging and reminding him that he wore Yuuri’s love like a second skin.

He _loved_ it.

Maybe he loved it a little too much because here he was, admiring his body in front of the mirror again instead of doing what he’d come here to do.

To be fair, he did make an arresting sight with his pale skin painted in shades of red and blue. It had been lovely even when it was restricted to just his neck but the larger canvas showed just how creative Yuuri could be with his mouth.

He brushed a finger along a particularly vivid spot above his navel and shivered at the sharp sting.

“What are you doing?”

A pair of arms slid around his middle as Yuuri pressed himself to Viktor’s back, propping his chin on his shoulders.

Viktor, to his credit, only jumped a little.

“Yuuri! Make some noise when you walk.”

“Sorry, sorry,” came the usual apology, about as sincere as always which was to say not at all. “The door was open. I saw you just standing here and got curious.”

One of Yuuri’s hands drew senseless patterns over Viktor’s belly, unintentionally or not pressing harder whenever it wandered near a large enough mark. It distracted Viktor from answering until Yuuri nipped at his ear.

“Ow. I was, uh, washing my face?”

At least he’d been planning to until he was led astray by his own reflection. Yuuri shot a pointed glance at the still sealed container of face wash on the counter. It was a local brand, Viktor not having brought his extensive skincare regimen with him when he left Russia. He couldn’t even remember using it during his last few months there.  

The neglect showed in the layer of oil his skin had taken to accumulating far too quickly but he had to admit that his time with Yuuri had done wonders for the haggard, shadowed monstrosity his face had transformed to during his initial stay.

Proper rest, good food, and genuine happiness could do that to a man.

Who knew?

Another nip to his lobe, sharper than the last, rudely pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Vityaaa,” Yuuri whined, cute enough to pull a smile out of Viktor despite his smarting ear. “Are you ignoring me?”

“No but I might if you keep biting me.”

“Liar. You like it when I bite you.”

And god, it was unfair, the way the mere dip of Yuuri’s tone at the end could reduce Viktor to a state that other men had spent whole nights attempting.

“I do,” he breathed like a confession, leaning back into Yuuri. The arms around him were strong and secure, taking his weight without effort.

Lips trailed along the side of his neck, not even kissing, just touching, as Yuuri’s hands on his body gained a new purpose in their movements. Viktor kept his eyes open with effort, knowing how Yuuri liked him to watch, as he was held and caressed with sure touches. Much to his dismay, Yuuri stopped short of his boxers – well, Yuuri’s boxers technically – and settled on just stroking the skin above the elastic. It was a silent request for permission. Viktor knew that. They had fooled around enough these last few days for him to spot a fair few of Yuuri’s habits.

And he liked it, he really did. It was sweet and considerate of Yuuri to make sure Viktor was into anything and everything they did, especially since Viktor knew Yuuri had to work more than usual to summon that level of sensitivity. He’d appreciated it greatly initially and reflected said appreciation in his actions but lately–

Lately, he’d wanted nothing more than for Yuuri to mould Viktor to his whims and make him like it.

He met Yuuri’s eyes in the mirror, blue disappearing to black while red creeped into brown.

He could ask. He knew how Yuuri looked at him. He’d seen the way Yuuri’s hands clenched when he called Viktor his _pet_.

“Don’t you – shit.” Viktor swallowed around a very dry mouth and tried again. “You don’t need always permission. From me. I – I’m yours, aren’t I? Your Vitya, your pet. So you can take what you want.”

He was nervous, hands cold and trembling as he forced the words out while struggling to look Yuuri in the eyes. He’d never quite learned to take rejection well but his usual habit of coaxing the other party into giving him what he wanted without ever saying much out loud had never worked with Yuuri.

But the telltale hardness suddenly pressing to his ass did a great job of killing the nerves.

Viktor pulled his gaze from the vanity to Yuuri’s face and made a weak little noise at the expression that stared back at him.

Yuuri’s eyes were bright red, the first and biggest sign that his self-control was slipping.

“You’re going to be the end of me,” Yuuri told him, sounding a little choked. His cock pressed against Viktor who couldn’t help but push back into it, relishing the way it made Yuuri hiss.

“Are you sure?” Yuuri asked, hands abruptly clamping down on Viktor’s hips to still them. Viktor squirmed in protest only to freeze when Yuuri’s fingers dug in even harder, sure to bruise. It reminded him that this was what he wanted.

Of course he was sure. It was Yuuri, he trusted Yuuri, wanted nothing more than to belong to Yuuri, mind, body and soul. Even the thought of it was liberating like nothing else.

“Yes,” he said, nodding with all the certainty he could muster which was, frankly, a lot. His enthusiasm pulled a grin out of Yuuri, one that morphed from nice to wicked as his gaze trailed down Viktor’s chest and abdomen to rest on the faint bulge in his boxers.

Viktor was so focused on Yuuri’s face that the palm cupping his cock came as a shock, making him jerk in place. Yuuri’s other arm tightened around him, keeping him steady as clever fingers slipped inside his underwear and curled around his dick, coaxing it from half to full mast with ridiculously little effort. Viktor bit his lip hard, wanting to touch Yuuri but hesitant to move his hands from their death-grip on the counter for fear of crumbling to the floor.

His knees were already weak. The things this man did to him.

Yuuri’s mouth descended on his shoulders, sucking idly at a miraculously unmarked patch of skin. Viktor yearned even now for the press of teeth, addicted just as Yuuri had warned him all those days ago and not caring at all when it felt so good. If anything, it was familiar to have his body revert to one big bruise.

He missed the oddest things about competition.

Viktor let out a muted groan of protest when Yuuri released him on both ends with only a teasing graze of teeth and a light squeeze around his cockhead. He didn’t go anywhere though, only tugged down Viktor’s boxers until Viktor got the hint and stepped out of them, swaying a little as the sudden motion made blood rush everywhere. He stumbled backwards into Yuuri’s waiting arms, his startled gasp swallowed by an awkwardly angled kiss that didn’t stop either of them from going at each other with open mouths and eager tongues.

Yuuri returned his hand to Viktor’s length, his own erection left trapped in his pants, but Viktor was too preoccupied to care, drunk on Yuuri’s taste and lost in the slow rhythm of his hand on his cock. He snapped his hips, fucking into Yuuri’s fist as best as he was able and also grinding his ass against Yuuri’s front, smiling into their kiss as Yuuri made a low, rumbling sound that made something primal inside Viktor sit up and take notice. What should have been fear metamorphosed into lust, ancient instincts suppressed by his very deliberate embrace of everything Yuuri was.

Sharpened canines dug into his lips, dangerous and present, and Viktor pressed into the touch, moaning at the first hot drip of blood from the twin wounds. Yuuri’s hand tightened around his cock without warning, jerking in harsh, rapid strokes that made Viktor writhe in his hold, half-formed cries escaping him at the sudden onslaught.

Yuuri didn’t let up, pumping his cock with near ruthless intent while he kissed the blood off Viktor’s lips, the wet swipe of his tongue sending pleasure singing through Viktor’s veins even as the tiny punctures closed. Yuuri’s hand froze the instant the last of the blood was gone. Viktor’s pleading moan went ignored and he couldn’t even complain because the next moment, he was being guided to bend over the vanity, his hands returning to their white-knuckled grip on the countertop.

He couldn’t not stare at his face in the mirror, splotchy red and heavy-lidded, or the way his body stretched out behind him, back in a graceful arch that he _knew_ highlighted the shapely globes of his ass.

He blushed harder, not from shame because it was a damn good butt and they both knew it, but because of the way Yuuri was staring at him, lustful appreciation written into every inch of his body, from the scarlet intensity of his gaze to the trembling clench of his fists.

Viktor wiggled a little, impatient to be touched and not trying to hide it. Yes, he wanted Yuuri to do as he pleased with him but that didn’t mean Viktor liked to be kept waiting.

Yuuri bent over him, the drag of his clothes on Viktor’s bare back making him shudder, and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the nape of his neck, biting down softly. It wasn’t enough to sting let alone mark but Viktor bowed his neck anyway, exposing himself to Yuuri with a mumbled ‘please.’

More of Yuuri’s weight came to rest on him as hands grabbed Viktor’s ass, lightly squeezing his cheeks as Yuuri kissed and nipped his way down Viktor’s spine, pausing now and then to suck hard at the skin. Viktor would have to twist creatively to be able to see the evidence later but he was content for now to arch into Yuuri’s hands and mouth both, his cock leaking where it hung heavy between his legs.

His eyes, which had closed sometime between Yuuri’s tongue tracing the knobs of his spine and the innocent kiss pressed to the small of his back, flashed open with a flinch at the sudden touch of cold wetness at his entrance. He looked over his shoulders to see Yuuri on his knees with an open lube bottle in one hand while the other traced circles at Viktor’s rim.

Viktor bit down an expletive.

“Sorry,” Yuuri apologized, not quite stopping his gentle rubbing.

“It’s fine,” Viktor gasped, pushing into the touch. Yuuri’s own anomalous temperature meant he couldn’t warm it up in his hands. Viktor was used to it now. “I was just surprised. Why do you have lu – _ah_.”

A finger slid into the first knuckle and _this_ he could never really get used to, the way Yuuri felt so cold inside his own heated flesh.

“I like to be prepared,” Yuuri replied, quiet but still making himself heard over the stuttered sounds slipping past Viktor’s lips with little input from his brain. All that effort at keeping his mouth shut only for Yuuri to pull a stunt like this.

“So you just – oh shit – carry it around all the – fuck, _Yuuri_!”

Two now, sliding deep and fast, Yuuri barely giving Viktor the chance to catch his breath as he twisted the slick digits in just the right way, the tip of them brushing his sweet spot with unerring familiarity. Viktor clutched at the countertop, finding no purchase on the cool tiles. This time, he couldn’t make himself look in the mirror knowing he’d find himself a panting mess and instead rested his cheek beside the sink, gritting his teeth against the noises that wanted to escape.

Then Yuuri stopped teasing and pressed hard against his prostate, and Viktor shouted, tightening helplessly around the fingers in his ass.

His cock ached, untouched and bouncing with each involuntary thrust of his hips, but Yuuri seemed to have no intention of paying it any attention, and Viktor couldn’t see to it himself the way he was arranged.

“Yuuri.” Viktor pushed back against his fingers, gasping as a third one nudged his hole. “Yuuri, my –”

Yuuri just hushed him, nuzzling into his hips, which was distracting and a little ticklish and absolutely not enough to make him forget that he was almost painfully hard and woefully ignored. He opened his mouth to try again, even preparing to pitch his voice in that way that had never let him down before, only to end up with his breath punched out of him as Yuuri pressed in with a third finger and a fresh gush of lube, pulling out and plunging right back in. He fanned his fingers, spreading Viktor wide and getting him wet. Viktor muffled ragged cries against his forearm.

He knew Yuuri had been far more careful, far more unhurried the first time they did this, but it seemed like he really did take Viktor’s earlier words to heart because he wasn’t pulling his punches now, opening him up with an efficiency that danced on the razor edge between pain and pleasure.

Viktor loved it and let Yuuri know with a slow, sweet moan.

Yuuri thrust the fingers in and out of him, occasionally brushing his prostate but never lingering no matter how insistently Viktor wriggled his butt. Cursing and pleading both fell on deaf ears, and he had to wonder if Yuuri was simply into watching Viktor squirm.

“Yuuuuri,” he whined after a particularly infuriating few minutes of maddening denial. “Yuuri, come on.”

“Hmm?” At least he responded this time. “What is it, Vitya?”

Viktor raised his head with great difficulty and looked over his shoulders at his asshole of a lover. Yuuri was still crouched on the floor, fingers buried in Viktor’s asshole and cheek resting innocently against his hip.

Their eyes met. Even drenched in red, he could read the amusement in Yuuri’s. There was heat in them too, as blatant as the tent in his pants.

“Yuuri?” Viktor called sweetly, licking his lips and smiling when Yuuri traced the motion. “Yuuri, fuck me.”

The words hit Yuuri with visible impact, his body stiffening for an instant and relaxing with a shuddering exhale. Viktor smiled, smug, only to lose it when fingertips jabbed viciously at his prostate, his mouth falling open in a silent scream.

“Fine,” Yuuri told him, voice gone deep and dark. He kissed one of Viktor’s asscheeks, biting down softly and then not so softly, pulling a guttural groan out of Viktor.

His heart thundered in his chest, sweat beading on his face and wetting his palms, as Yuuri rose from the floor, his fingers shifting deliciously against Viktor’s walls with the movement. They slid out, leaving him eerily empty.

For a few seconds, Yuuri did nothing, just held Viktor’s gaze with a sliver of uncertainty discernible amidst the desire. Palms stroked the curve of his ass almost absently, petting him with gentle touches that only served to cement his conviction.

“Go ahead,” Viktor murmured, blinking up at Yuuri from between his lashes. His back was starting to ache from the position but he – he _wanted_.

Yuuri nodded and leaned forward, once again covering Viktor with his body as they kissed, mouths sliding together with more tenderness that lust. He wasn’t sure if Yuuri was trying to reassure Viktor or himself but he was all too happy to melt into it, to let Yuuri soothe him with soft touches along his sides and shy nips to his lips.

He was beaming when Yuuri pulled back, still flushed and wanton, but brimming with something lighter.

“Yuuri!” Viktor chirped, rubbing as best as he could against the bulge between Yuuri’s legs. “How long are you going to keep me waiting?”

Yuuri’s answer was to grind his clothed erection into Viktor, the rough fabric of his pants scratching his rim and wiping the grin right off his face.

“So impatient, Vitya. Maybe I should tie you up next time.”

Viktor almost didn’t hear the words, too busy craning his neck to see Yuuri free his cock, but they registered half a second later and there was nothing he could do to bite back the little whimper that slipped out of him.

Yuuri smiled, a tiny little thing that was almost absurdly filthy.

“You’d like that?” he asked, tearing Viktor’s attention between the question and the blunt pressure against his entrance.

“I, uh, I don’t know, I don’t – oh god.”

Thoughts of ropes and silks and his own bound wrists flew out of his head as Yuuri pushed into him, slow but steady, prying Viktor wide inch by inch. They’d never gone farther than fingering before, he’d never had Yuuri _inside him_ before and it was so different than wrapping his hands or lips around the width of him. Viktor was loose enough to take him with minimal discomfort but that did little to help with the way Yuuri’s cock seemed to split him impossibly open, his girth and cold heat real and intense in a way that had Viktor clinging to the vanity and keening. His muscles clenched around Yuuri as he slid in deeper and deeper, bottoming out after a scorching eternity.

Yuuri was cold, even like this, and his fingers were one thing but it was another experience entirely to have his cock, cool like marble, carve a niche for itself inside Viktor’s heated body. Viktor shuddered violently, wondering absently if they should have bought condoms after all. 

He wasn’t sure. He’d been excited about bare-backing when they discussed it, had silently thanked Yuuri’s nature for rending diseases a moot issue. Even now, with goosebumps rising on his skin from the oddness of it, he didn’t want to create unnecessary barriers between them.

“Vitya? You okay?”

Yuuri sounded strained and it was good to hear the audible evidence of this affecting him. Viktor nodded, head bowed again, unable to keep looking back at Yuuri while also getting fucked.

“It’s been a while,” he managed to say and god, his voice was a wreck. “You’re thick. And cold. Fuck.”

Yuuri’s hand dragged down his back, brushing the stinging marks he himself sucked into Viktor’s skin. It was grounding.

“Take your time,” Yuuri told him, hoarse and with a hint of a growl in the words. Viktor shivered, ass convulsing around Yuuri and making them both cry out. “Vitya, shit, you’re–”

Viktor laughed, high and tight. He was so damn full and it was nearly too much but he really, really needed Yuuri to move now.

“You can–” He lost the words and just moved instead. It was little more than an inch, a miniscule jerk of his hips, but Yuuri made a wild noise that sunk down to his bones. He pulled back, pausing for a moment with his cock barely inside Viktor before slamming back in, filling him to the brim with one fast thrust.

Viktor lurched forward with a shout, eyes screwing shut as lightning shot up his spine. Yuuri was silent as he fucked him but his body spoke volumes. Fingers dug hard into Viktor’s sides as Yuuri’s hips crashed into his with a force that rattled bones. His cock burrowed deep into Viktor, relentless and searing. Viktor took it with gasps and moans and broken cries, holding on for dear life and enjoying the ride. It was good, intense and insane, but so good. Yuuri was like no one he’d ever had and he didn’t even think it was just sheer bias when each inch where their cool-hot bodies touched seemed to be pulsing with sensation.

Then Yuuri leaned over him again, the clothes still covering his upper body a shock where they brushed Viktor’s sensitized pores.

“Vitya,” Yuuri breathed into his ear, lips soft against the shell, and Viktor opened his eyes, raising his face to the mirror just in time to see Yuuri’s fangs sink into his throat.

He screamed.

Yuuri didn’t release the bite, didn’t suck at the wounds, just kept his canines buried in Viktor’s neck as he fucked into him with shorter, more frenzied thrusts. Yuuri’s teeth tugged at the torn skin with each roll of his hips, pain warring with pleasure, blood dribbling out of the edge of the bite.

Viktor watched, unable to take his eyes off where Yuuri’s face was half-hidden against his neck. Someone was speaking, babbling, sobbing; meaningless words and desperate sounds, shameless and filthy and _his_ , winding him up with each errant brush of Yuuri’s cock against his prostate and the deepening pain concentrated on his throat.

Yuuri made a sound, distorted but loud, and pulled his teeth out of Viktor only to instantly clamp his mouth over the wound, sucking hard once, reaching at the same time to wrap his hand around Viktor’s neglected cock and pull.

He came without ever noticing Yuuri’s softened length slipping out of him.

His orgasm left him shaking, vision going fuzzy and knees finally buckling. He collapsed against something cold but soft and was immediately scooped up into a bridal carry. He opened his eyes to see Yuuri gazing down at him, eyes and lips both the color of blood, and the best sight he’d ever seen.

“Maybe it was a bad idea to combine the bite with sex,” Yuuri said, maybe more to himself than Viktor but he couldn’t let such blasphemy pass uncorrected.

“Hush,” he replied with great eloquence. “S’good. Feels so. Good.”

No, not good. Better than good.

Not best. That was the first time Yuuri had bit him. This was only almost there.

Viktor would tell Yuuri that the moment he found his tongue again.

Yuuri chuckled and it sounded odd, like there was something stuck in his throat. Viktor blinked at him, once, twice, and found Yuuri peering at him with pupils blown wide and bracketed by a ring of red.

“Bed?” Yuuri asked and Viktor nodded eagerly. His body was starting to make its protest over being bent over so long known. He was getting old, wasn’t he?

“No, no. You’re young and beautiful, Vitya.”

Ah, had he said that out loud?

His head was clearing again. He could see what Yuuri meant about combining the orgasmic pleasure of his bite with well, actual orgasm. Viktor had to wonder what it’d be like if Yuuri properly fed on him while getting him off and–

Blood made a valiant effort to rush back to his dick which remained unhappily drooped over his thigh.

See, _old_.

Yuuri carried him all the way to the bedroom and gently deposited him on the bed. He did it as easily as he had that first time despite how Viktor, even having lost both weight and muscle mass since his competitive days, must be quite heavier than him.

“You really are strong,” Viktor admired, running a hand up Yuuri’s shirt and over his soft but firm skin.

Yuuri shook his head.

“It’s not that impressive, just a vampire thing.”

The words were dismissive but the smile accompanying them was undeniably pleased.

Viktor hummed, stretching like a cat on the bed and liking the way it made Yuuri stare. He was less enamored of the cooling come on his skin but they could fix that later, after he properly caught his breath. Yuuri had done quite a number on him.

His ass was already sore and he was quite sure his back and knees would be worse off tomorrow. He didn’t regret it though. Yuuri had felt so good in him, around him. And these days, he could afford to take it easy and alleviate the aches.

“I’ll go get something,” Yuuri told him, bending down to press a swift kiss to Viktor’s forehead. He blurred out of sight before Viktor could quite process the words and was back just as quickly, wet washcloth in hand.

“Wow,” he mumbled, dazed. “I haven’t seen that trick before.”

The vampire books he’d read had mentioned super speed though.

Yuuri just shot him a wink – a wink! – and set about carefully wiping the come and lube off Viktor’s body, giving himself to the task with such focus that Viktor had no choice but to lie there and stare at him, more than a little entranced.

How had he ever lived without this man?

Viktor held out his arms the moment Yuuri finished, a silent demand that was indulged instantly, the cloth falling to the floor as Yuuri tripped over himself to join Viktor on the bed. He snickered, pulling Yuuri as close as was possible without the two of them melding into one.

Now there was a thought.

“Why didn’t we do this before?” he sighed.

Yuuri said something but it came out indistinct due to his face being squashed into Viktor’s chest. He relaxed his hug just enough for Yuuri to raise his head. His hair was a royal mess, feathering over his forehead and sticking up in odd angles. It was so cute that Viktor felt like his heart would burst from just looking at Yuuri.

“I said we cuddle all the time.”

Viktor frowned and flicked Yuuri on the nose, smiling widely as his face scrunched up.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Do I? I’m not so sure. Enlighten me, Vitya, please.”

“You just want to make me say it.”

Yuuri’s eyes glinted deviously.

Viktor gave in, pouting just for show.

“Fiine. You should have stuck your dick in my ass way earlier. That clear enough, Yuuuuri?” It definitely was if the way Yuuri had gone from smug to sputtering in a second was any indication. Viktor continued with a delighted grin. “Or mine in yours. I’m not picky. But _wow_ , you felt so good pounding into me. I’m going to feel that for a – mmph!”

Viktor laughed against the palm covering his mouth. He even licked at it but Yuuri held fast, seemingly torn between smiling and frowning. The former won out.

“I’ll let go if you promise to behave,” he said with a passable attempt at sternness. Viktor nodded, still giggling.

Yuuri removed his hand.

“You asked!” Viktor told him the moment his mouth was free. “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed by that. It’s not like you had a problem fucking my brains out. Or with snacking on me while you did it. You just bit–”

“Okay!” Yuuri exclaimed, talking over Viktor and not quite meeting his eyes. “I get it. Oh god. I’m sorry I asked.”

“Are you actually embarrassed?” Viktor asked, calming down a bit. He didn’t want to make Yuuri uncomfortable, certainly not on purpose.

But Yuuri just shifted against him, gaze flitting everywhere before returning to meet Viktor’s.

“It’s not embarrassment. Just – hearing you talk like that. It’s… I mean I get…”

Then he just gave up and pushed his lower half firmly against Viktor’s. There was a suspicious firmness between his legs, pressing into Viktor’s thigh.

His mouth suddenly felt dry.

“Again?” Viktor all but shouted, incredulous and incapable of hiding it. “Already? It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes!”

Yuuri shrugged, distinctly sheepish.

“It doesn’t help that you’re naked. And you sound ridiculously hot saying…things like that.”

Viktor was a little too stunned to properly savor the compliment. If it even was a compliment.

“I know I’ve joked about your stamina but this is something else. Is it a vampire thing too?”

Better ask questions than dwell on the implications of Yuuri’s awe-inspiring refractory period because that path lead to the gutter and _Viktor_ wasn’t ready to get it up again.

“Maybe? I’m not sure. It certainly helps.”

Viktor blinked. And then blinked again for good measure. The ceiling stared back coolly.

“I see. Do you need me to–?”

“Oh no, ignore it and it’ll go away.”

“But–”

Yuuri moved so that he was looming over Viktor. His face was far nicer sight than the bland ceiling.

“Vitya, we’ll have time to explore my, uh, recovery powers in detail later. We just had penetrative sex for the first time. You’re tired and sore and I’d like nothing more than to just hold you. Can we do that?”

Viktor was pretty sure he just melted.

“Yuuuuri! How are you so perfect? I’ve never had a boyfriend who–”

He stopped, mouth curving into a small ‘o’ as the question he’d been meaning to ask for ages finally invaded his thoughts.

“Vitya?”

“Boyfriend. We are – what are we? I know we never labeled anything but I’ve been wondering.”

He hated how his voice trailed off towards the end. He knew, he _did_ , that he meant something to Yuuri, but that didn’t fully erase the uncertainty that inevitably seized his mind during frank conversations like this. Often with Yuuri, it felt like Viktor was feeling around the edges of himself, finding and defining what was really there and what was just a mirage, and it was good, so good, but it also left him floundering sometimes, lost without the right words or right actions.

It was elating and terrifying, but Yuuri was always there with him, a solid comfort, and this moment was the same.

“I – yes? I’ve been telling Phichit you are my lover for weeks. I thought it was obvious but maybe not…” Yuuri trailed off, looking at Viktor with an adorably confused expression.

“Good,” Viktor said simply, pulling Yuuri down by the neck to kiss him.

He felt so light, like he could float away on a breeze.

“You talk to him about me?” Viktor asked when they parted. The man, Phichit, had come up in a few of their conversations. He seemed to be the only person Yuuri was in any way close to and Viktor might have been jealous if he hadn’t been assured that Phichit was happily mated to another werewolf.

“You’re all he wants to talk about,” Yuuri informed him wryly. “If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t even be keeping in contact so much. I’m pretty bad at that.”

And damn if it wasn’t an ego boost to hear that. Viktor drew Yuuri back down, turning to his side so they were facing each other and still touching as much as possible. True to Yuuri’s words, his erection had gone down. Viktor mourned it just a bit. But they could explore that later.

He could drift off like this, wrapped around Yuuri and sluggish in his afterglow. He wasn’t sure he’d get away with it for long because Yuuri was sure to push him into eating breakfast. Plus he needed a shower, the one he’d been planning to take before Yuuri ambushed him in the bathroom.

Better not to nap then. Not that lying awake beside Yuuri was in any way lesser, not when Yuuri was looking at him like this, with so much unconcealed affection that Viktor wanted to shy away and bask in it at the same time.

He ran his fingers through Yuuri’s hair, attempting without much success to comb the strands into submission. It seemed a small miracle that Yuuri ever managed to attain any semblance of neatness with these persistent monsters, let alone the kind of suave slickness he’d sported on their first (and last, so far) date. Gel could do wonders and really, the effect had been striking in the extreme.

Remembering that night brought to the forefront of his mind the very idea that had been plaguing him since.

Viktor twisted one of Yuuri’s longer curls around his finger, tugging gently.

“What are you thinking about?” Yuuri asked just as Viktor was about to open his mouth. His surprise must have shown on his face because Yuuri grinned and poked him between his eyebrows. “You get a special little frown when you’re seriously considering something. Sometimes, you touch your mouth too.”

Viktor’s ears warmed. He was also ridiculously pleased that Yuuri had watched him enough to know that level of detail.

Hearing it also made his next words easier.

“I was thinking, Yuuri, that we could go out? One day soon, maybe before you leave for work. I’ve never really been out in Hasetsu, you know. I came here with pretensions of tourism but I didn’t leave my hotel room more than a couple of times and after I came to you, I didn’t want to leave.”

He still wasn’t keen on it. But that night at Yu-topia had been so much fun. He wanted to go on more dates with Yuuri, wanted to do couple-y things. The mere thought of it was exciting.

It was also a little intimidating, but Viktor wanted to push past that.

Yuuri looked at him, evidently surprised but also interested. His hand rubbed up and down Viktor’s back, automatic and soothing.

“I want to try now. You have that wig and the date at Yu-topia went well. I want to try exploring this place. With you.”

Yuuri’s eyes were wide. A smile tilted his mouth, growing until it was a toothy grin.

“Vitya,” he said warmly, one hand wandering up to cup the back of his head. “I would love that. But – are you sure? Would you be comfortable doing that?”

Viktor shrugged.

“I’m sure, mostly. Comfortable? We’ll see. Honestly, I feel like I could spend the rest of my life staying in this house with you. But I also want more. My relationships were few and always a dull mess but it’s different with you, Yuuri. You make me excited in ways that I thought I’d never feel again. And who knows, maybe it’ll be good for me to get out for more than morning runs or grocery shopping.”

The last sentence was uttered skeptically. He’d been ‘out’ quite a lot in his thirty years of life. He’d seen more places than most people would in their lifetime.

“I’d be happy with that too, Vitya. Spending all our time here, I mean. There isn’t really much to see in Hasetsu. The beach and the onsen are the best parts in my opinion. But even strolling along the sidewalk with you would be time well spent, and if you really want, then I’ll happily give you a tour.”

He didn’t know how Yuuri always had the words for him. Viktor kissed him, meaning for it to be a quick peck but unable to help himself from turning it into a series of close-mouthed kisses all along Yuuri’s face. Yuuri shivered into them, breath leaving him in a soft sigh that brushed cool against Viktor’s skin.

“I don’t want a tour guide though. I want my boyfriend.”

“I’ll be both.”

Viktor chuckled, brushing his nose against Yuuri.

“That’s perfect.” He stole one last kiss before pushing Yuuri away. “Now I’ll go take a shower.”

It was more than a little comical, the way Yuuri got so slack-jawed when Viktor climbed out of the bed in all his naked glory. Viktor swayed his hips as he strode to the door, giving Yuuri a good view of his ass.

His back still ached, but it was manageable.

At the door, he paused and looked over his shoulders. Yuuri’s eyes snapped up from where they’d been clearly checking out Viktor’s backside. A flustered expression settled over his face, and Viktor was sure that the vampire would blush if he had the blood for it.

“You could join me,” Viktor purred, cocking his hips.

He’d never seen Yuuri move so fast.

 

* * *

 

Katsuki Yuuri was a lying liar who lied.

There was nothing to see in Hasetsu, he’d said.

There was a _ninja castle_.

“I’m sorry!” Yuuri cried, the sincerity of his apology completely ruined by how he was obviously struggling not to laugh. “I didn’t think you’d be so into an empty ninja house.”

“It’s ninjas, Yuuri! How could I not be into it?!”

Yuuri reached for him and Viktor ducked away from his terrible, deceptive boyfriend, crossing his arms over his chest.

Alright, fine, the actual structure was less exciting than the term ‘ninja’ implied. But it had been cool once upon a time and its current sad state had not prevented Viktor from snapping away with his camera. It also didn’t mean Yuuri got off that easily.

“Vitya,” Yuuri said, finally giving in and laughing. Viktor huffed and tried to turn away, only to yelp in shock when Yuuri abruptly dropped to the ground. Legs folded under, back parallel to the ground, palms flat down –

“Oh! Japanese dogeza!”

Viktor wasn’t sure if Yuuri was trying to hide his laughter or playing along or what, but when he raised his face to give Viktor a puppy-eyes expression that would have put Makka at her cutest to shame, Viktor…wavered.

“I solemnly swear to never underestimate the appeal of ninjas ever again. Forgive me, Vitya?”

Viktor _wavered_.

And maybe also whimpered.

It was possible he could find it in himself to forgive Yuuri.

Oh, who was he kidding, he was weak.

Viktor dropped to his knees beside Yuuri, taking his arms and pulling him upright while his own laughter bubbled out of him. They rose from the ground clutching each other, grinning like fools.

“I could be persuaded to forgive you if we take a selfie.”

“Anything you wish.”

Viktor shook hair out of his face, the long wig reminding him of the less fun – but still strangely nostalgic – parts of having long hair. He pulled Yuuri to his side and snapped a photo, smiling as he looked at the result. He didn’t look his best in the wig but Yuuri looked radiant, lips quirked upwards and eyes crinkled cutely. His hair was allowed to be the force of nature it was, and it splayed artfully over his forehead. Gorgeous.

The instinct to post the picture to Instagram was strong even after all this time but Viktor resisted and put away the phone, shuffling closer to Yuuri as he did.

“Where to now?”

They’d already covered most of Hasetsu and really, Yuuri had been right. There wasn’t much to see.The scenery was gorgeous and the people were delightfully unobtrusive but there wasn’t much in the way of entertainment. They’d both bought a few cheap T-shirts from the local market, Viktor choosing one with a tiger’s roaring face on the front just because it reminded him of Yuri.  They’d had lunch at a ramen stand or rather, Viktor had a bowl while Yuuri looked on happily. And then they’d walked and walked and walked until Viktor’s legs were screaming while Yuuri remained as unaffected as ever.

He wasn’t complaining though. He had been enjoying his recent indolence more than expected, but it was nice to exert himself again.

And it was more than just nice to be out with Yuuri, holding hands and sneaking kisses and laughing like they were young and in love.

Young didn’t apply to either of them but love…

Viktor had never been in love but the warmth that swelled inside him in a litany of _YuuriYuuriYuuriYuuri_ could only be that. He didn’t know what Yuuri felt or if he felt it as intensely but for now, he was content to keep that feeling tucked deep and enjoy their time together.

“I have an idea,” Yuuri said, breaking the silence and startling Viktor out of his reverie. His eyes refocused on Yuuri’s face, a gentle smile sweetening his mouth as he stared right back at Viktor.

“Yeah?” Viktor asked, breathless for distinctly non-physical reasons.

“Mm. It’s a surprise though. I’ll take you there. Do you trust me?”

A resounding _Yes_ was on the tip of Viktor’s tongue before Yuuri had even finished the question but the look on his face was solemn enough that Viktor actually tried to think before he answered. They were seconds wasted. The answer was not going to change.

In fact, the slow, deep kiss Yuuri bestowed on him almost had him blurt that Yuuri could ask him to jump off a bridge and he’d do it just because.

The conviction lasted right until the moment Yuuri led him by the hand to a large-blue gray building with the words ICE CASTLE stamped on the top in gleaming white.

Viktor froze. His hand went limp in Yuuri’s.

“Oh.” He swallowed with a throat that had become painfully dry. “You work here.”

“Yes,” Yuuri replied quietly, taking a few steps towards Viktor. The closeness was nice. “I took today off.”

“I remember.”

Viktor couldn’t make his feet move, couldn’t take the first step, couldn’t look away from the block letters that seemed to taunt him.

“Yuuri. Yuuri, I won’t – I can’t–”

Yuuri remained silent or maybe he said something and Viktor just couldn’t hear because his heartbeat was thundering in his hear, his breathing was too loud, there was something closing around him in a vice grip, sharp and merciless like the ice after a hard fall.

Someone squeezed his hand. Something settled on the small of his back, stroking up his spine in a familiar motion.

Yuuri’s voice murmured close to his ear.

“It’ll be hard the first time,” Yuuri was saying. His hand held Viktor’s tightly, securely. “People slip and fall a lot. I see it often enough. But I’ll hold your hands all the while and we’ll take it slow.”

Viktor couldn’t be more confused if Yuuri started speaking in tongues.

“Wha–”

“I know the ice is scary,” Yuuri continued, an oddly determined look on his face as his gaze bored into Viktor. “But I’ll be there and I won’t let you fall. Won’t you please trust me, Vitya?”

And despite everything – the race of his pulse, the clamminess of his palms, the dread pooling in his gut – Viktor still had only one answer to give to that.

“Yes.” He laughed, a frail thing stranded between amusement and amazement. “You won’t let me fall.”

Yuuri knew who he was, what he was. He was a perceptive man too.

And yet, here he was, saying things that left Viktor perplexed but also oddly excited. He could play along.

Perhaps he wanted to.

Viktor breathed in deep and placed his foot on the first stair.

 

* * *

 

Viktor Nikiforov in rental skates. Yakov would have an aneurysm if he saw. Russia’s Yuri would laugh himself to death.

Viktor’s Yuuri just knelt down on the floor and helped him put them on with far more care and time than were strictly necessary. Viktor would have liked nothing more than to return the favor but he was dazed to the point of inactivity by that point.

What was he _doing_?

At least they were alone in the rink.

Then Yuuri took his hands, keeping his promise with a smile that managed to be simultaneously coaxing and reassuring, and drew Viktor on to the ice.

He hadn’t been on the ice since Makkachin died. He hadn’t known what he expected to feel.

It was both familiar and not at the same time.

Skating had seeped into his blood, perforating every cell and saturating his very being. It would never be anything but natural to balance on slick ice on thin blades and know how to bend physics to his whim.

But Ice Castle’s stock skates, while adequately well-fitting, was a far cry from competition grade skates and gold-plated blades, and maybe it was the sheer shocking strangeness of it all that made Viktor wobble and cling to Yuuri mere seconds after his feet touched the ice.

Yuuri’s arms clutched him close, one on Viktor’s elbow and the other around his back, supporting and soothing.

Viktor looked deep into worried brown eyes. He could see himself reflected in them.

All of a sudden, it was too much and he laughed, doubling over and making Yuuri hold him even tighter. His arms were soft and strong, and Viktor never wanted to be anywhere else.

A moment later, Yuuri giggled as well, nervous but genuine.

“You alright, Vitya?”

Viktor shook his head, still shaking with incredulous laughter.

“You haven’t let me fall yet,” was what he said when he composed himself. Yuuri’s grip grew tighter and then relaxed. He slid back to better look at Viktor, forcing him to stand properly on his own. It was easy; it would take more than a pair of unfamiliar skates to kill his grace on the ice.

He was Viktor Nikiforov whether he liked it or not.

Yuuri apparently had the same thought because he said, “Yuuko would have a conniption if she realizes you’re skating here.”

Viktor had caught only a tiny glimpse of Yuuko, Yuuri’s boss, when they walked in. Yuuri had talked to her but Viktor, remembering she was the fan who’d introduced his skating to Yuuri, had hidden behind his fake fringe and only smiled in her general direction. She must have thought him very shy.

“Let’s spare her that fate.”

Yuuri nodded, grinning widely.

“Of course. There’s a no reason for her to be worked up over me helping my poor boyfriend, who’s obviously never touched the ice in his life, skate.”

Now it was Viktor’s turn to smile brightly, both from the words and the way Yuuri had started pulling him along, fingers firm around Viktor’s wrists. He let himself be led and thought of nothing but Yuuri.

“I love hearing you call me your boyfriend,” he confessed as they finished a slow lap around the rink.

“Good. Me too.”

Viktor couldn’t help but lean in to kiss Yuuri, chaste and brief. He felt himself flush.

They continued to skate lazy circles around the rink, eyes set on each other.

“What are we doing?” Viktor had to ask, brave enough to be curious now that his heartbeat had settled back to normal. It jumped whenever Yuuri did something particularly attractive like breathe but that was his new normal.

“Ice skating on a date,” came the prompt response. “I hear it’s very romantic.”

Viktor had fallen for a crazy man.

He chuckled in spite of himself, pushing forward, skates slipping in between Yuuri’s as he pressed as close as was possible without fully touching.

“I’ve never had an ice skating date before. I’m very impressed.”

“And thoroughly romanced, I hope?”

“Oh, quite. Dubiously patterned T-shirts, castles hiding ninja houses, authentic ramen and now an ice rink. You sure know how to woo a man, Mr. Katsuki.”

And he did. Viktor’s dating experience was minimal, his handful of relationships having been hurried things that rose and then fell apart in between the frenzy of competitions. Yet he knew that no fancy restaurant or high-end boutiques would ever compare to the simple, indefinable pleasure of Yuuri’s company.

A finger came to rest on the side of his mouth. It traced his lips and the smile curving them.

Yuuri’s own smile was heart-stoppingly tender and almost wondrous.

“This is what I wanted to see,” he breathed into the scant space between them, intimate like a secret. “You smiled so vibrantly in those videos, the ones from when you were young. I couldn’t see that smile in the more recent ones. I know you’re not comfortable with your past. I know it’s complicated. I don’t know what I can do to help. But I thought, if I could return that smile to you, then – then I could return a small piece of that old happiness to you. Just for a little while.”

Viktor didn’t even feel the tear until Yuuri wiped it away, eyes widening frantically.

“Thank you,” Viktor whispered, pre-empting any apology. “Oh, my Yuuri. Thank you.”

It wasn’t enough.

“It’s not just for a while. You make me so happy, Yuuri. _You_. Every day. And then you do something like this. I feel like I’m dreaming. I never want to wake up.”

Yuuri cupped his face, petting and stroking. They were motionless, lost in each other.

“No dream. You’re here. I’m here. This is our reality, Vitya, the life we’re building.”

If someone had told the Viktors of the past – seven and determined, sixteen and joyous, twenty-three and jaded, twenty-seven and hopeless, thirty and broken – that he would find life and love in a vampire hiding in a quiet Japanese town, he would have thought them insane.

Viktor took Yuuri’s hands in his and pressed a kiss to each knobby knuckle.

And then they skated and skated and skated.

 

* * *

 

The sun was almost down by the time Viktor and Yuuri left the rink. They’d done straight to Yu-topia, mostly for Viktor’s sake. The hot springs had been heaven for his wrung out body, and the delicious food had filled his belly and made him pleasantly drowsy.

It also gave him an excuse to hang all over Yuuri as they made their way home, not that he seemed to mind.

He wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up in bed with Yuuri, his perpetually cool skin a solace from the steadily building heat of summer.

Instead he found himself staring out at the ocean, almost hypnotized by the glittering blue waters that stretched out to meet the pink-hued sky.

It was beautiful and while he would hesitate to brave more than the shallows, it didn’t scare him.

He told Yuuri as much, finally answering a question that had been asked many days ago.

“That’s good,” Yuuri replied, caution and confusion blending in his tone. “What brought this on?”

Viktor shrugged and smiled without looking at Yuuri, unable to take his eyes off the horizon.

“Nothing in particular. I thought you deserved an answer. I’m certain now.” He finally wrenched his eyes away, turning to look at Yuuri who only had eyes for Viktor. “Besides, this ocean brought me to you.”

Yuuri lit up in unchecked delight, bringing a happy flush to Viktor’s own face.

He considered, for a brief and volatile instant, whether to pursue that strain of conversation to its logical conclusion, only to recoil in horror at the mere thought. That April night was a black maw within his mind, one that Viktor was always careful to skirt around lest it dragged him into its depths. And Yuuri, he knew, would never push.

Moreover, they had other things to discuss tonight.

Viktor took off his shoes and lowered himself to the sand, stretching his legs out before him. Yuuri copied him without any hesitation. Waves lapped at their feet, never making it father than their knees.

Yuuri slid an arm around him, his head coming to rest on Viktor’s shoulders.

“I had fun today,” Viktor said eventually, loath to break the peaceful silence but needing to speak.

“I’m glad, Vitya. I did too.”

He didn’t even need to see Yuuri’s face to know that there was a mellow smile on his lips. That was just as well because this was one talk that would be easier without eye contact. Yuuri saw too much sometimes. As much as Viktor loved being known, it could still be rather overwhelming.

“Can I tell you a secret, Yuuri? I haven’t had fun on the ice in years. It was my first love. Even as a child, I was eager to dedicate myself to the ice and that didn’t change even when I grew to have a better grasp of what that entailed. Now, I _know_ these things but I can’t imagine ever feeling that way.”

He stopped, not out of words but out of strength. Beside him, Yuuri remained still and silent with his head still pillowed on Viktor. He wasn’t even breathing and Viktor knew he was listening to every word and every exhale with absolute attention. But he kept quiet and let Viktor gather himself.

“I fell out of love,” he declared with a quiet finality that made something in him twist unpleasantly. It was nothing he had not known or thought but words, real and spoken, had power. “I was relieved when I retired and coaching was a new avenue full of possibilities and potential surprises. That high lasted maybe a month before it wore off. They hailed my student as my second coming. Neither of us was happy about it but the world didn’t give a shit. It was so hung up on Living Legend Viktor Nikiforov even two years after his retirement. Makkachin was the one good thing in my life and when she was gone, I – it was impossible, suddenly, to smile and pretend and live a lie. Then the Olympics and…everything I once loved was there, making me miserable. After that, I was done. I couldn’t take it anymore. I took off. An old friend, also a retired skater, recommended Hasetsu to me when we met in Pyeongchang. So I fled here, knowing no one would bother me. It didn’t help. I didn’t get better. And then – you. You found me. It feels like I’ve started living again.”

His voice choked to a pause, his throat clogged with everything that remained unsaid, everything that could not be said, not now, not yet. His eyes burned but no tears escaped.

“You’ve given my life back to me, Yuuri. Thank you so much.”

It was barely more than a whisper, but Yuuri heard and Yuuri moved, and suddenly they were both crumbled on the sand, Viktor caught and held in Yuuri’s arms.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Vitya. But I’m the one who should be thanking you. For coming into my life, for livening it up in ways I never thought possible, for accepting me and trusting me, and for sharing this with me. I know it wasn’t easy.”

Viktor buried his face against Yuuri’s chest, lashes wet with tears that never got the chance to escape.

“I wish I’d met you sooner.”

Yuuri chuckled, the sound a warm comfort.

“I want to say I would have been horrible to you. But it’s you. I can’t imagine meeting you and not being drawn to you no matter what the circumstance. You’re unlike anyone else, Vitya.”

The thing was that Viktor had been told he was special since before he had been old enough to understand what that truly meant. Such words were among those he’d grown desensitized to during his undisputed reign over men’s figure skating. But when Yuuri said it, there was the silent implication that Viktor was special not for his gold medals or quad jumps but for the simple, inexplicable quality of _existing_. 

 _I love you_ , Viktor thought into the rough fabric of Yuuri’s shirt. He tightened his arms around Yuuri to the point of pain but there was no complaint forthcoming, only gentle kisses pressed to his hair.

The sand was gritty and the air humid, the combination the farthest thing from comfortable, but none of that mattered when he was lying tangled with Yuuri like in the soft sheets of their bed. Location and luxury didn’t matter. Yuuri’s arms were home.

He shifted so that his cheek rested on Yuuri’s chest. If he listened closely, he could hear the crawling beats of his heart, quiet thumps that defied any rhythm. The chill of Yuuri’s body seeped through his clothes and onto Viktor’s face, cooling the skin heated by blood and tears.

“Yuuri,” he spoke after a quiet infinity had passed with neither of them making any move to rise and return. “Tell me a story.”

Yuuri’s hands which had been combing through Viktor’s hair and stroking his sides, paused for a second before continuing their blissful ministrations. He didn’t respond immediately so Viktor drifted, lulled to a haze by the slow thudding of Yuuri’s heart.

“Once upon a time, there was a young man who lived in a small village. And he–” Yuuri cut off abruptly, his body shaking under Viktor who, interested but mostly perplexed, raised his head to check that he was laughing and not sobbing randomly. He promptly lay back down.

Yuuri calmed down pretty quickly, apologizing in breathy whispers.

“I am so confused,” Viktor mumbled back, mouth awkwardly smashed to Yuuri’s pecs.

“Well, I was trying to be dramatic but as you can see, that failed. God, I’m never doing that again. But on with the story. I was in my mid-twenties when I was turned. It saved my life, for a given definition of life.”

The subject was so utterly unexpected that it took Viktor several long seconds to figure out Yuuri was talking about his past, his origins, something he’d never touched upon during all of Viktor’s questioning except to say that he had once been human. He tried to sit up, wanting to see Yuuri while he spoke of this, but the hand innocuously playing with his hair was suddenly a vice around his skull, keeping him kindly but firmly prone against Yuuri.

Viktor resisted just enough to feel the strength keeping him down and then gave in, wholeheartedly accepting that Yuuri preferred it this way.

He squirmed over to place his head on Yuuri’s shoulder instead of his chest to better hear him.

“Shall I continue?”

“Yes!”

“I don’t remember much of my human life. I had a family – a mother, a father. A sibling too, I think. I can’t remember anymore if they were a man or a woman. I’m sure they were older than me. They were all nice. Loving. They all died in the fire that should have killed me. Our house burned down, cause unknown. I survived though I’ve been told I was burnt all over and in so much pain as to be delirious with it.”

Viktor didn’t even register his physical reaction, too lost in the horror the images invoked, until Yuuri chuckled and gently pried Viktor’s fingers from where they were digging into Yuuri’s flesh.

“Sorr–”

“You don’t need to be so upset, Vitya. I recall none of it.”

“But it’s so terrible.”

His voice was a small, fluttering thing, cowed by the picture Yuuri had painted with so few words. A picture he himself seemed unaffected by. Viktor couldn’t understand. Even imagining Yuuri going through that, aware or not, made revulsion and sorrow shudder through him.

“Maybe. I appreciate your sympathy, sweetheart, but let it go. That’s the worst of it, if it makes you feel better.”

It wasn’t but Viktor settled down all the same, curling impossibly closer to Yuuri. The endearment reverberated through his mind, the naked fondness in Yuuri’s voice turning the well-worn term into something new and special. It was a pity he couldn’t appreciate it as much as it deserved.

“The vampire who turned me, Minako, was also a resident of the little village where my human family lived. She’d come from elsewhere, this mysterious, beautiful woman who knew more than the rest of the villagers combined. She wasn’t trusted, was even shunned, but some primal sense of self-preservation kept most from messing with her. She didn’t care about any of it. My mother didn’t either and apparently, that was enough for my father too. Minako was the first and only one to come inside the house while it burned. It was too late for everyone else but me. She hauled me out of there. She could have let me die. I’m sure one human life meant nothing to her. But my mother and I were more than mere cattle to Minako. She didn’t give me a choice but she gave me her blood.

Yuuri’s hands had stilled. His whole body had. Viktor could just barely see his chest rise and fall with the breaths needed for speaking.

“Most of this is second-hand information. I had to practically drag it out of Minako. She’s a big believer in shedding our human skins once we’re reborn. Anyway, she wanted us to leave that place as soon as possible but I…couldn’t. The memories may be gone now but back then, they were clear. My new existence was confusing. I was hungry and angry all the time. I just couldn’t – wouldn’t – leave the one place that remained familiar. Minako tried to tell me it was stupid but I was stubborn and stayed and she stayed with me out of some sense of loyalty. I was her, well, her child in some way. Her one and only fledgling.”

Yuuri paused, and now Viktor was the one holding his breath, his body seized by a strange tension. Yuuri was reciting his story with even-toned composure but that itself was the issue. Yuuri never sounded so blank, not with Viktor, not anymore.

He forced down his worries and waited for Yuuri to continue his story.

“It was stupid of course. I lasted a few days on the blood of the villagers she led to me but one night, I lost control. Drained a girl to death. I didn’t care. I was just…so hungry. I did it again and again. By that point, Minako was just resigned to watch the fallout. She wasn’t disappointed. We lasted maybe three weeks there after I was turned. It was a small village – someone caught sight of me, the guy who should be dead, walking around. Rightly pinned all the new deaths on me and also those of my own family. Labeled Minako and I _youkai_ – demons. They were desperate enough to try and kill us and I think we ended up slaughtering half the village just getting out. Minako ripped me a new one the moment we were out of there. I deserved it and by that point, the bloodlust and general confusion had calmed to the point I could listen to reason. We were lucky Enforcers didn’t exist back then but I guess people like me are why they’re needed in the first place.”

Someone made a stifled sound of shock. Viktor didn’t realize it was him until Yuuri asked if he was alright.

“Yes,” he replied automatically before frowning. That was a lie and he didn’t want to lie to Yuuri. “Mostly. I’m just…very overwhelmed. You’re saying this so calmly but all this _happened_ to you. So long ago. I don’t know how to deal with it. Or respond.”

Yuuri hummed, considering, and moved Viktor so he was lying fully on the sand with Yuuri propped up on his elbow beside him, gazing down. His face was shadowed in the dying light but the small smile on his lips stood out. Viktor lifted his hand to trace it with a finger, letting it rest on Yuuri’s nape afterward.

“You don’t need to respond. Just listen. You asked for a story. I’m giving you mine. It’s my dark past, not because it causes me pain but because my idiocy is embarrassing. I’m sure you have your share of embarrassing teenage tales.”

“Mine don’t involve murder, Yuuri.”

“Ah, that. Does it bother you?”

“Is it callous of me to say no?”

Yuuri leaned down to give him a quick kiss that nonetheless had Viktor instinctually chasing his lips.

“Still doesn’t feel real?” Yuuri asked when they reluctantly parted. There was a definite huskiness to his voice.

“It’s not that. Well, not really. I’m not in denial that it happened, that you’ve killed people. I just know that it’s not enough to drive me away from you. Whatever you have done and whatever you will do, I know I’m safe with you.”

He knew how foolish that could be. Yakov would yell himself hoarse if he head. Lilia would shake her head in that implacable way she had. Yuri would lose his mind. But Viktor knew himself and he knew Yuuri. If there was one thing he believed in these days, it was in them.

And a part of him, a sliver of thought in the depths of his mind, murmured that even death by Yuuri’s hand would be better than returning to a life without him.

“What happened after that?” Viktor asked quickly, unwilling to dwell on the dark whispers in his mind. Story of his life.

“We moved on. She taught me how to be what we were. The term was something different back then but again, I don’t remember. It’s hard for a newly turned vampire to learn their limits, both mental and physical. She trained me and it was a special kind of hell but it was effective for sure. She’s very old, Minako, but every time I ask the exact age, she blows me off. We traveled together for…around a century? Most of it was spent in Japan but we left eventually and split up. It was good to be on my own, but then…in the end, I drifted back to her. She was the one who made me try being an Enforcer. It stuck. I’ve been doing that for around two hundred years now, taking the occasional break. Of course, this is the best of them.”

The last part was said against Viktor’s forehead, the curve of Yuuri’s smile imprinting itself on his skin. In spite of the information overload, it made joy burst in him.

“Thank you for telling me,” Viktor echoed Yuuri’s earlier sentiment. “I’m happy to learn more about you.”

It was a lot to process and Viktor was sure he’d have questions later because Yuuri had a gift for vagueness but for now, it was good to just know something about the years and years of history behind this man. All those years, all those people, and he still chose _Viktor_.

“You’re the first, Vitya. And the last if I have anything to say about it. You’re trying so hard and I don’t want to give you any less.”

Viktor laughed at that, playfully pushing Yuuri away so he could sit up properly. Sand stuck to his skin.

“It’s not a contest, Y _uu_ ri. We should let these things happen naturally.”

“We are! I am. It’s just – I’ve never – there hasn’t been anyone I wanted to be known by. Only you. I do want to tell you these things, even though I end up taking cues from you a lot.”

Viktor had to lean close to catch a glimpse of Yuuri’s expression. He was biting his lips, eyes fixed somewhere around the second button of Viktor’s shirt. He seemed so bashful.

And maybe – maybe he was.

Something swelled in Viktor, big and warm and airy.

“I want that too. So much, Yuuri.”

They smiled at each other, hands meandering into a loose clasp.

Viktor stood and pulled Yuuri to his feet.

“Let’s go home, _lyubimiy_.”

 

* * *

 

It was only after they were both home and shedding sand-crusted clothes in the foyer that a very pertinent question occurred to Viktor.

He froze in the middle of slipping out of his pants.

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri turned, shirtless and glorious, one dark eyebrow arching at the sight of Viktor with his pants pooled around his ankles.

“Minako…wasn’t your lover, was she?”

It should have been physically impossible but he could swear that Yuuri turned green for a moment.

_“She’s like my mother, Viktor!”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Lyubimiy_ : Beloved/darling
> 
> Viktor’s been with Yuuri for almost two months now. Long enough for him to declare himself in love it seems. How long until he confesses? Who knows. Wait, I do. Maybe. 
> 
> And yeahhh, this is a series now. Don’t worry, there won’t be another full length fic after this. I wouldn’t do that to you (or myself). But drabbles that won’t fit into the main story will end up here rather than on tumblr since this method seems more accessible to readers. And I’m so sorry about the cheesy series name, it was all I could come up with and well, it’s accurate.


	9. dark cathedrals spilling midnight on their altars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's never cared like this before but he gets used to it nice and quick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, 4k sex scenes are my new standard openings. Oops. 
> 
> Friendly reminder that the ‘Unhealthy Relationship’ tag remains very much valid despite the recent influx of tooth-rotting fluff.
> 
> ALSO LISTEN we now have art for this because the best girl, Vic, gifted me [ this beautiful piece for my birthday!](http://lactobacille.tumblr.com/post/166173308741/birthday-gift-for-voxofthevoid-based-on-midnight) She’s not even in the fandom but she still went to all this effort and I’m still not over it. Love you, Vic.

Yuuri let Viktor’s cock slip out of his mouth with a forlorn sigh.

From somewhere above him came a noise like a wounded animal’s cry.

He pressed a consolatory kiss to the flushed head, tongue flickering out for a taste of precum, only to come up disappointed as always. It wasn’t that Viktor’s was not leaking profusely. The fault lay in Yuuri.

He sighed again.

“I want to taste you,” he complained, raising himself onto all fours. Viktor gaped at him from where he was prone on the bed, something suspiciously similar to betrayal twisting his expression.

“Yuuri! _Why did you stop_?”

Yuuri started at the vehemence in Viktor’s tone and took a nice, good look at him. Viktor was red all over, the white of his skin barely visible amidst the flush. There were randomly patterned discolorations all over his neck and torso, the result of Yuuri’s own mouth. Most were faint. That wouldn’t do.

Viktor was also panting violently. His fingers were buried in his own hair and his eyes were wild.

Had he been close?

Maybe Yuuri should have waited until Viktor finished before voicing his frustration? Admittedly, Yuuri’s thinking capacity was not at its best when there was a lovely cock filling up his mouth in all the best ways. Problem was that he wanted so desperately to taste it despite knowing very well that it was impossible. It was Viktor – of course Yuuri would want everything about him, biology be damned.

“Sorry, Vitya” he said with genuine contrition. He petted Viktor’s thigh, careful not to brush his cock.

Viktor just huffed, irritation melting off his face as puckered his lips for a kiss. Yuuri happily crawled over, laying himself atop Viktor’s inviting warmth as they kissed, hard and deep.

“What do you mean?” Viktor muttered when they parted. “What taste?”

Yuuri was momentarily distracted by Viktor’s lower lip, violently red from the constant assault of teeth. He drew it into his mouth, running his tongue over the delicate skin. It wasn’t cut, not quite, but the skin was torn enough for him to taste the barest hint of tangy sweetness.

Viktor’s fingers sunk into his hair, yanking none too lightly.

Yuuri released his mouth, frowning at the loss.

“Oh no,” Viktor bit out, darkened eyes narrowing. “You don’t get to pull that shit and not explain.”

Viktor seemed much more inclined towards cursing when they fucked. It was nice. His accent did things to the coarse words than in turn did _things_ to Yuuri.

“I want to taste you,” Yuuri repeated, somehow rescuing his mental faculties from the vice grip of mind-numbing arousal to try and recall if he’d ever discussed this Viktor. Apparently not. “I can only really taste blood. And that’s been fine so far – but now, you’re here, spread out like a feast, and I want everything. Your skin, your sweat, your seed. I want to feel it all on my tongue but I can’t and it’s so – I feel so deprived.”

Yuuri, despite temporarily being out of fucks to give, was objectively aware that these sorts of things were not appropriate bedroom talk. They just slipped out of him at inopportune moments. It had happened before and was a large part of why he’d developed a no-human, no-repeats sex policy. It wasn’t fun to accidentally offend or scare his bed partners. He vividly remembered that one witch who’d thrown fire at him when he’d unthinkingly blurted something about the strategically placed runes on their body.

Viktor, though, was something else, something marvelous and incomparable.

Neither the fine details about Yuuri’s palate nor his fervent desire to taste Viktor put him off.

Instead, Viktor stared at him with a heart-shaped smile and stars in his eyes, all but glowing from Yuuri’s words.

“Oh, Yuuri, you’re so sweet.”

There was a dreamy quality to his words, oddly complementing their undeniable sincerity. It never ceased to amaze him that Viktor was content to be wanted as wholly and fiercely as Yuuri wanted him.

“It’s part of why I like to mark you so much,” Yuuri confessed, absently rubbing a fading hickey on Viktor’s shoulder. “It’s not the same but all that blood rushing to the surface adds a little bit of flavor.”

The other part was simply that he loved to see Viktor drenched in the proof of their shared pleasure.

Viktor shivered lightly, pupils blowing impossibly wide. Their brilliant blue was merely an outline now, taken over by the glistening black. He spread his arms to the side and threw back his head, leaving his neck and body arched and exposed in blatant invitation.

Yuuri swallowed a moan at the sight and gratefully lowered his mouth to Viktor’s neck, closing his lips around where neck and shoulders met. Viktor loved that spot, loved some pain with his pleasure, and it showed in the noises that echoed in the room as Yuuri dug his teeth in none too gently and sucked, worrying a livid bruise into the spot. It was just warm flesh in his mouth, bland and flavorless, but soon there was the vague suggestion of more. Yuuri’s throat ached even as liquid heat pooled in his gut, a certain other physical need loudly making itself known. He ignored it and bit a path down Viktor’s torso, cautious not to break skin and begin something he’d be compelled to finish.

Viktor’s chest was heaving by the time Yuuri got to his nipples. They were pert in his mouth and under his hand as he lapped at one and rolled the other between his fingers. It was tempting to stay – Viktor made the most interesting sounds when Yuuri paid too much attention here – but the prize awaiting him down below was a siren call of its own. He pressed teasing kisses to Viktor’s abs, smiling as the muscles jumped under his lips, and lightly dipped his tongue into his navel, grinning outright as Viktor shuddered hard with a mangled curse.

Yuuri buried his nose in tightly trimmed silver hair and breathed in deep, enjoying the mixed scent of soap and musk that was characteristic of Viktor after a shower. It made his mouth water for what he couldn’t have.

It also made him ache for what he could have.

He tried to dismiss it, truly he did, even swallowing Viktor to the root in a hasty attempt to direct his focus elsewhere.

The burn in his body refused to be ignored.

And thus Yuuri found himself interrupting a blowjob for the second time in a single round in favor of an unfortunate announcement.

“Vitya, I’m hungry.”

Viktor’s immediate reaction was to cup one hand protectively over his cock.

Yuuri stared.

Viktor stared.

It was…weird.

“I’m…not going to bite your dick?

“Why is that a question?”

Viktor’s voice was surprisingly steady. Clearly _some_ things were instant mood killers even for Viktor Sink-Your-Teeth-And-Cock-Into-Me Nikiforov, namely perceived threats to his penis.

“I’m not going to bite your dick,” Yuuri said more firmly with what he hoped was a reassuring expression. The fangs and red eyes probably didn’t help with that.

But Viktor, as always, trusted Yuuri far more than was healthy, and stopped guarding his dick which had understandably flagged somewhat. No matter. That could be fixed easily. First things first though; blood.

“I wanted to ask if I could drink your blood. Properly, not those little nibbles we usually do.”

It had been well over two weeks since he’d first made a consenting meal of Viktor and while all the extra biting had helped stave off the hunger, a few drops every day was not nearly enough to substitute for a regular blood supply. Viktor knew this too, having prodded Yuuri into saying as much several days ago, and it showed now in the way his eyes widened in realization. The naked want that washed over his face the next instant was the only answer Yuuri needed.

“Please, yes,” Viktor gasped, hips jerking upwards. A quick glance showed that his cock was back to full hardness. “Anytime, anywhere, Yuuri, please.”

It was gratifying to see Viktor reduced to begging at the first suggestion of this. He’d had a vague suspicion that Viktor longed for the high of a proper feeding what with the way he took _so well_ to even the barest graze of a fang.

Yuuri grinned, canines flashing, and bent down again, bypassing the pretty cock begging for his touch with an apologetic kiss and scooting down the bed so that he was at eye level with Viktor’s knee. He pressed his mouth to the inside of it, peppering feather-light kisses along every centimeter of the pale scar there. He heard Viktor take in a sharp breath, quiet but delightfully loud to Yuuri’s sensitive ears. He continued to kiss his way up Viktor’s leg, lips trailing along the soft skin of his thighs. Viktor’s muscles were tense under his mouth, firm and defined after a lifetime of training and persisting despite his recent lack of it.

As Yuuri kissed and licked and nipped, Viktor’s spread his legs wider, mutely urging him to get on with it. Yuuri smiled his amusement into the crook of one thigh where leg met hip and the skin went soft and supple.

Then he bit.

He felt Viktor jerk, heard him scream, but none of that mattered when vibrant lifeblood flowed into his mouth, stolen straight from Viktor’s willing intimacy and gulped down with lustful fervor. Yuuri latched on to the twin punctures bleeding into his mouth, one hand clamping down tight on Viktor’s leg to keep it still even as the rest of Viktor thrashed and howled. Viktor’s cock brushed the side of Yuuri’s head and his hands came to grip at his hair. Viktor pushed Yuuri’s mouth towards the open wound, fingers spasming around the strands they gripped. Yuuri felt it in his scalp and down to his bones but his mind was fixated on the sweet blood flooding his tongue.

It slid down his throat and into his belly, soothing the burn and filling him up. It was different from the fleeting flavor of a lick or two, an explosion rather than mere fireworks. Viktor was everywhere inside Yuuri, warming him to the core.

He never wanted to stop.

He had to, he knew that. He was used to wrenching away from the urge to keep drinking until the hearts of his prey fluttered and died. Viktor was different too. He was more than prey, he was Yuuri’s, now and forever, and death couldn’t have him.

Yuuri stopped sucking, whimpering at the loss as he pulled away with one final swipe of his tongue over the incisions. He nosed at the newly healed skin, a little regretful, a lot needy.

Viktor shook under him.

It was with the flush of illusory life that Yuuri raised his face from its snug cradle, lifting onto his knees to better look at his human.

Viktor was a vision in white and red, as if whatever blood Yuuri hadn’t sucked out of him was painting him scarlet from tip to toe. His jaw was slack, his eyes closed, hands now limp on his own body, one resting near his cock without so much as twitching towards it. He looked a mess; a pretty, pleasing mess.

Yuuri ran his hand up Viktor’s other thigh, pausing briefly to thumb the sharp jut of his hipbone before finally taking hold of his cock. Viktor made a breathless noise but didn’t move, not even to push into the touch.

It would have been worrying if not for the clear beats of his heart, faster than normal as it should be.

“Vitya,” Yuuri purred, slowly pumping Viktor’s cock. Only a faint flicker of silver lashes answered him.

“Vitya, I know you hear me. Look at me, sweetheart.”

The endearment was accompanied by a novel thrill even now but it fell off his tongue naturally, even eagerly, as if the word itself knew how thoroughly deserving Viktor was to be called all the sweet, precious things in the world.

Sweet Viktor; precious and _his_.

And just like that, Yuuri’s own arousal, which had receded at the first flare of his thirst, reared with newfound savagery. His cock swelled again with fresh blood.

He could fuck Viktor. He was so relaxed like this, it would take little effort.

But the hot pulsing of the cock in his hand gave him a different idea.

“Vitya, I’m going to ride you.”

There was a sound, rough and incomprehensible, and Viktor finally opened his eyes. Blue subdued by black peered at him, unfocused. Another sound, more moan than word, came out of him, Viktor’s mouth opening and closing in a vain effort to speak.

Yuuri had seen humans blissed out on vampire bites more times that he could remember let alone count but with Viktor, it felt like a priceless sight that ought to be treasured and revered.

“Nod if you want it, Vicchan,” he said fondly, a little surprised at himself for the nickname but loving it anyway.

Viktor nodded, eyes closing again. Yuuri stopped stroking his cock but Viktor didn’t even protest. There was even a smile playing on his lips, a tiny thing that spoke of contentment. 

Yuuri was a little miffed at being ignored but he’d brought it upon himself and honestly, Viktor was too cute like this.

He wondered how long he’d last once he was inside Yuuri. Not too long, judging by the angry red of his cock and the fluid gleaming along its length.

That was fine. He just wanted to feel him.

There was lube hiding away somewhere amidst the messy folds of the sheets. Yuuri scrambled in the fabric until he found it, the tube half-empty but more than sufficient for his present purpose.

Viktor had once again managed to pry his eyes open by the time Yuuri started preparing himself. From his position, he couldn’t see much other than Yuuri’s hand disappearing behind him but he stared bug-eyed anyway, gaze flicking between Yuuri’s groin and his face, the haze in them clearing as pure need took over. He tried to touch himself but Yuuri’s low, mostly involuntary growl had him freezing and dropping the limb. The sheer pliancy of it sent a bolt up Yuuri’s spine, making him spread and rub his fingers faster, harsher, impatience eradicating any and all finesse.

He didn’t take it slow when he sunk down on Viktor. His ass sullenly reminded him that it had been years – decades? – since it’d taken a cock and some thorough preparation would not have been amiss but it opened up for Viktor’s length with only minimal resistance.

It was a lot, almost too much. Viktor was nice and _long_ and reached deep inside Yuuri, hot and hard and pressing into places that had been untouched for so long. Yuuri gritted his teeth and didn’t let himself stop until all of it was in him.

Then, he stilled and watched.

Viktor had found his voice again and was currently making good use of it, babbling in shrill Russian that cut off with every breath, interspersed with quivering groans and grunts of exertion. Seeing it, you wouldn’t think that Yuuri was the one doing all the work. But frantic noises aside, Viktor didn’t react at all, keeping himself completely immobile even as Yuuri slowly relaxed around him.

“You can move,” Yuuri told him, tapping his hips.

Viktor shook his head almost violently, hands twisting in the covers. His gaze was wide and lost as he stared at Yuuri, as if he couldn’t bear to look away. Yuuri loved that.

“Okay, okay,” Yuuri soothed, gently patting the strained muscles of Viktor’s stomach. “I’ll do it, Vitya, you just lie there and be a good pet for me.”

He took the high-pitched moan that answered him as agreement.

He rose, Viktor’s cock dragging inside him in delicious ways, and stopped with the head spreading his rim wide. He paused for a moment, thigh muscles bulging, to savor the sensation.

Viktor’s heated length was _searing_ against his own cool flesh. Yuuri felt like he was devouring Viktor’s life in whole new ways.

He slid back down, fast and hard, and would have kept going until one or both of them were lost to pleasure if not for the way Viktor shouted and arched against the bed, one hand flying up to clutch at Yuuri’s leg.

“ _No!_ ” Viktor yelped, and Yuuri froze. “No, no, I’m sorry, Yuuri, I can’t, I’ll come if you – please, I’m sorry.”

Yuuri blinked, the cold knot in his chest unraveling as the rest of Viktor’s words registered. For a second there, he’d feared that he’d done something wrong and hurt Viktor and that – that wasn’t something he ever wanted. Humans were so fragile. Sometimes, it scared him, how easily Viktor could be broken.

“Vitya,” he called as softly as he could. Viktor’s eyes met his, wide and anxious. “Vitya, my Vicchan, are you worried you won’t last?”

Viktor nodded, a whispered affirmative following the motion.

“That’s fine. You can come whenever. I’ve been working you for a long time, you’ve earned it. I’ll just–”

He was cut off as Viktor shook his head again.

“I want to,” Viktor said, voice heavy with his accent. “Please, Yuuri. Help me.”

“Ahh.”

It was possible that sex was not supposed to involve this much confusion. But between the taste thing, the hunger thing and now this thing, they’d both flummoxed the other enough to last a year or ten.

“I’m – not sure how? I mean, I could go slow…”

He ground his hips down to prove as much but Viktor only whined low in his throat. It was a nice sound but Viktor just looked on the verge of tears. It was a very good look on him.

Yuuri stopped moving.

“Vitya?”

“Make me,” Viktor said through gritted teeth, hand almost clawing at Yuuri. “Compel me not to come. Let me – please.”

After all these years, there were few things that could truly catch Yuuri off guard. But it had become clear weeks ago that Viktor’s very existence was one such thing. This was only one particular moment among many.

For the time being though, it was a lot more significant than that.

“Um.” Yuuri blinked. Viktor’s expression remained hopeful and pleading. “I’m…not sure I can do that? If it’ll work? I’ve never…”

He’d done some interesting things in the bedroom but this was a whole other monster. He wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned with Viktor’s ingenuity.

He settled for impressed because it was Viktor. Yuuri was all too happy for a reason to be more in awe of him.

“But I could try?”

“Yes, yes, please.”

True to his word, Yuuri hadn’t used compulsion on Viktor since he’d promised not to but it had been implied back then that he would if Viktor gave him permission. This was Viktor giving him permission.

Yuuri leaned over Viktor, biting back a gasp as it made Viktor’s cock brush tantalizingly against his prostate, and looked deep into his eyes. He let his power wash over him, fuelled by the rush of Viktor’s own blood.

“Vitya,” he crooned, grinning as Viktor’s glimmering eyes grew dazed at the word. “I need you to hold back for me. Don’t come until I have. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” Viktor breathed.

There was no guarantee if it would work. Compulsion had its limits, and Viktor wasn’t going to have an easy time of it while Yuuri rode him to hell and back. But there was no harm in trying.

Yuuri kissed the tip of Viktor’s nose before withdrawing, settling fully back on his cock as he did. His own length bobbed in front of him, fully hard despite being neglected for so long. He took it in his hands, took a perfunctory breath, and _moved_.

He had Viktor writhing in the span of one thrust, his body twisting on the mattress as his hips jerked up with no rhyme or rhythm, pushing as deep as possible into Yuuri who slammed back down on him. One hand braced on Viktor’s chest and ass clenching around his cock, Yuuri rode him for all he was worth, strangled sounds punched out of his chest with each powerful stroke.

Inhuman stamina or not, he wouldn’t last, not when pleasure zinged through his veins, fiery and consuming, threatening to erupt and take him down with it.

Beneath him, Viktor was debauched dream. Stuttered Russian left his mouth in a constant stream, incomprehensible to Yuuri, but he didn’t need to understand to know.

“Just a bit more,” he gasped in answer to the pleas and picked up his pace.

And Viktor – lovely, perfect Vitya – held on and endured, and only after Yuuri bowed over him with a helpless scream did he let go and fill him up with wet warmth.

 

* * *

 

The realization that he enjoyed cooking was an unexpected epiphany.

Unexpected and also mistimed because the distraction made the knife sink into his finger rather than the carrot it was meant for. He quickly glanced at Viktor and was relieved to find him busy preparing the beef, unaware of Yuuri almost severing his thumb. When he looked back at the injury, it had closed, the blood staining his fingers and the carrot the only remaining evidence.

Time to get a new carrot.

He managed to wash of the blood and dispose of the unfortunately flavored carrot without Viktor noticing. It wasn’t that he’d freak out at the blood or the healing. Viktor had been remarkably chill about anything and everything inhuman about Yuuri so far. But it would divert his attention from the task at hand, and Yuuri had put in too much effort into wrangling Viktor into the kitchen to let him be sidetracked by anything.

They would make this beef stir fry or die trying.

He resumed slicing the carrots, mind inevitably wandering back to the cause of his mishap.

It was kind of an exaggeration to say he enjoyed cooking because he barely did any of the actual cooking. He’d love to do more for Viktor, but it was a hopeless task when he couldn’t even taste what he made. He did, however, help Viktor, cutting and grinding and boiling things as per his instructions. Really, it was more accurate to say he enjoyed being in the kitchen with Viktor.

There was something so domestic about it that appealed to Yuuri.

Viktor also seemed more lively when Yuuri was with him, and if they often ended up making out or abusing the coconut oil, well – that was fun too.

But not today. Today, they were going to make this damn thing, and Viktor was going to eat it until he stopped looking like he had one foot in the grave.

It wasn’t long before Yuuri found himself idly stirring the ingredients. Actually adding them to the pan had been left to Viktor but Yuuri was quite happy to stand there and tend to it with his tired lover draped over his back. 

Viktor nuzzled into his neck, warm breath brushing his nape, and Yuuri fought hard to suppress a shiver. He glared at his dick which didn’t seem to care that Viktor was in no state for anything more rigorous than a shower. To be fair, Viktor didn’t seem to care either if the way he was nibbling at Yuuri’s skin was any indication.

When had he become the responsible one?

Oh right, when he fell for a human and then proceeded to suck his blood with little restraint.

He missed the days when even fully draining someone was an accidental inconvenience. Look at him now, fretting over taking a few extra drops. This was what he got for _caring_.

God, he didn’t even regret it.

Minako would laugh at him.

Well in her current state, she’d rip him a new one and rant about love being a fool’s errand but Normal Minako would laugh and be happy for him.

He sighed and swatted Viktor’s hips, mumbling for him to behave.

The admonishment went ignored. Yuuri’s own lips betrayed him by twitching up into a smile.

Viktor eventually had to detach from Yuuri when the food was ready. He allowed Yuuri to march him to the dining table and push him down on a chair. He lightly shook his head as a plate full of food – it smelled delicious and also very unappetizing but that was probably because Yuuri’s idea of an ideal meal was Viktor in his birthday suit – was shoved in front of him but picked up his utensils readily enough and started digging in.

Yuuri flopped down on the chair beside him and just watched.

There was nothing aesthetically pleasing about Viktor eating. Nor was it hurried and disgusting. It just was.

That didn’t mean Yuuri didn’t watch him like a hungry hawk.

In his opinion, the bob of Viktor’s throat when he swallowed was a work of art.

Viktor, though, misinterpreted the meaning behind Yuuri’s scrutiny which was strange given how Yuuri had been shamelessly watching him for months now. Then again, these last three days had out of the norm in many ways.

“You don’t need to worry so much, Yuuri. I’m fine!”

Yuuri let his face show how supremely unimpressed he was by that claim. Viktor didn’t even blink.

“I am!”

“ _Vitya_. You literally haven’t left the bed in two days except to use the bathroom. The first morning after the feeding, you collapsed when you got out of bed. I know I took too much blood. You don’t have to try and make me feel better.”

“I think I had trouble walking because you fucked my brains out, not because you drank my blood.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes so hard that he feared his eyeballs would pop out.

“You’re right, we shouldn’t have combined sex and a full feeding. Lesson for the future.”

Viktor looked devastated.

“What? No! That was amazing, Yuuri! Hands down, the best sex of my life. Wasn’t it good for you?”

“Of course it was, that’s not the point. I just don’t want you in danger.”

In all honesty, Yuuri had no confidence that he’d be able to keep sex and feeding separate, not when Viktor also wanted it as much as he did. But for now at least, he could pretend he had more self-restraint than he did.

“I wasn’t in any,” Viktor shot back, aggressively shoveling food into his mouth. Yuuri tried not to smile. “And you haven’t touched me since then.”

“I don’t think I’ve gone a full ten minutes without touching you except when I’m at work, Vitya.”

“Yuuuuri, you know that’s not what I mean.”

“Fine, get your strength back and we’ll fuck.”

Viktor pouted, looking far more adorable than a thirty year old man had any right to, and set about finishing his food.

Yuuri considered saying sorry again but he’d done that many few times in the last seventy-two hours and it had always been met with some variation of _I am a consenting adult who knows what I want, Yuuri_. It figured that one of the few times Yuuri felt genuinely remorseful, his apologies were brushed aside.

He’d have to be careful the next time. He was fairly sure he hadn’t even come close to drinking enough blood to truly threaten Viktor’s life. All he needed was rest and proper food to replenish what he lost. But Viktor had been utterly wrung out in the aftermath and hadn’t in fact eaten as much as he should later. Yuuri had once again been completely out of his depth.

It had been a frantic few days. They’d both snapped at each other and made up just as quickly.

Now that Yuuri had dragged Viktor the kitchen to cook with him in an attempt to re-establish their old routine, things seemed to be improving.

Yuuri silently heaped a second serving on to Viktor’s plate. Viktor shot him a mock-glare but didn’t protest. He was even smiling as he ate but it was an absent, contemplative thing.

“Yuuri?” Viktor called, setting down his fork. The plate was over half-full. “Do you mind this?”

Had he missed something while staring rapturously at Viktor?

“I’m sorry but mind what?”

Viktor gestured at himself. Yuuri remained confused.

“Taking care of me,” Viktor clarified with a stiff smile. “Doing all this for me. It’s not – I know it’s not how you usually are. And I appreciate that you keep going out of your way for me but sometimes, I wonder…”

He trailed off and Yuuri waited several minutes to see if Viktor would add anything that would help him make sense of that confounding series of sentences. He didn’t.

“You wonder what, Vitya?”                         

Yuuri heard the edge in his voice and didn’t like the way Viktor’s eyes widened at it. He took a bracing breath and stood up, walking over to Viktor and dropping to his knees beside him.

There was an unpleasant weight in his gut.

“Tell me,” he said more gently.

The tenderness didn’t help. The opposite in fact if the way Viktor’s whole face tightened was any indication.

“ _This_. This, Yuuri. You cater to me so much. You go out of you way for it all the time and I can’t – sometimes, I wonder if you’re just playing human for me.”

“Playing human,” Yuuri repeated, lost and showing it. He usually loved it when Viktor surprised him but this wasn’t a good surprise. He didn’t like it. “I’m not – why would you think that?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t. I was quite happy with the way we were. But I think I wondered now and then. I know you’re different from me, from humans. And the other day, when you were hovering over me and being so kind, it just hit me all at once.”

“Do you…not like it when I do that?”

Viktor made a sound that was pure, condensed frustration. He tugged Yuuri up and he went along with it despite newfound reservations, allowing himself to be pulled into Viktor’s lap. It was awkward.

The food was going cold.

“I do like it, Yuuri. You make me feel so safe. I just want to know if fretting over me is something you truly want to do or something you just think you should do. I know a thing or two about building a life on shoulds.” Viktor smiled, bitterness lacing the edges. “There’s no future to it.”

Yuuri really wasn’t seeing the problem here. He liked taking care of Viktor. Viktor liked being cared for.

He said he didn’t know if Yuuri liked doing it but why would he have that doubt when Yuuri had already made clear that he wanted to do it?

This didn’t make sense but if what Viktor needed was repetition, he’d have it and more.

“Vitya, I’ve said this before. Maybe you didn’t listen. Maybe you forgot. So I’ll say it again. I want to take care of you. I want you lively and healthy and beside me. There’s no playing human about that. It just is.”

Even that didn’t seem to fully assuage Viktor’s doubts. Yuuri didn’t know what he could do to hammer his point home. He’d never been this sincere in his life and look at how that was working out.

He took hold of Viktor’s face and pressed their foreheads together. Viktor’s breaths fell rapid and warm on Yuuri’s lips.

“I’ve had four hundred years to find myself. I like to think I used that time wisely. I am selfish, Vitya. Always have been. I didn’t expect a beautiful Russian man to bulldoze his way into my existence and I sure didn’t expect to be happy about it but here I am. My affection for you is the truest thing I’ve felt but it is no less selfish for it. I am only this way for you. I only care this deeply for you. You can call it whatever you wish but it is real. I don’t know what else to tell you to make you believe me.”

But maybe he didn’t need to say anything more, at least not now. The tension in Viktor’s body had eased with each word, now well on its way to vanishing entirely. His eyes fell shut as he slumped against Yuuri with a shuddering exhale.

“Thank God. Thank _you_.” 

Yuuri let himself relax for a moment before drawing away and flicking Viktor’s wide, shiny forehead.

“You worry too much, Vitya.”

There wasn’t much heat in the admonishment. It was hard to when Yuuri himself at times wondered if Viktor was truly willing to consort with a monster. But one look at Viktor’s adoring eyes and heart-shaped smiles would convince him, if only for the time being. So if Viktor needed reassurance in the form of words, then Yuuri would drag words from the deepest parts of his soul and present them to him.

Because no matter what happened, he was keeping Viktor.

“Sorry, Yuuri.”

“It’s alright. You can always tell me what’s worrying you.” Yuuri smiled softly and kissed Viktor’s nose. “Even such silly things. You’re mine, aren’t you?”

Viktor’s pupils flared, turning molten.

“Yeah, yours. Your pet. Your lover.”

Yuuri giggled, the last of his own concerns draining away. Talking things out with Viktor was always so rewarding.

“Yes. My everything. That’s why it’s my responsibility to keep you happy and safe.”

“And with you.”

It was almost a question, one Yuuri was only too happy to answer.

“Yes, Vitya. With me, always.”

Viktor grinned and kissed him on the lips, gentle and questioning until Yuuri smiled into it and kissed back.

“You know,” Yuuri said, breaking the kiss to air a thought that crossed his mind. “You’re prone to neglecting your health when there’s something bothering you. I never made the connection before.”

From the look on his face, neither had Viktor. He opened his mouth for what could have been a denial but then closed it abruptly.

Yuuri assumed he was also revisiting all the time he’d spent rarely leaving his bed and barely eating. The initial days of lethargy, the way it had escalated after Daiki, and the last few days of almost deliberate negligence that was not as severe as in the past but concerning nonetheless.

He didn’t like it, knowing that Viktor would torment himself not only mentally but also physically.

“Oh, Yuuri,” Viktor whispered, the name filled with something rich and indefinable. He was gazing at Yuuri with a familiar expression of shocked awe, mouth hidden behind a raised hand.

It was enough of a clue that Yuuri had said that last part out loud. He often did that around Viktor but the reactions were usually so wonderful that the embarrassment was riddled with dots of satisfaction.

“I’m not doing it on purpose,” said Viktor. Yuuri believed him. “I just get so caught up in things and even the most basic acts become so…hard. You make it so much better, like you can’t even imagine, Yuuri.”

Yuuri wanted to agree but then he remembered the sight of Viktor walking into a dark ocean. It was true that Yuuri couldn’t imagine it, not really, but even the faint images he conjured made terror crawl under his skin.

His pressed closer to Viktor, trying to sink into him until they were one and the same; inseparable.

“Then don’t doubt me,” was all he said out loud.

“Okay,” answered Viktor, subdued but firm. Only time would tell if he would – could – keep his word but Yuuri would be here to hold on to Viktor and remind him.

Viktor pecked him on the cheek almost shyly and buried his face in Yuuri’s neck. Yuuri shifted so he was more comfortable – Viktor’s lap wasn’t the best seat, too much muscle and poking bones, but it had merit solely on the basis of being _Viktor’s lap_. Yuuri would happily abandon his butt to some mild torment for its sake.

Some muffled sounds and lips moving against his throat prompted him to stop playing with the feathery strands around Viktor’s hair whorl and lean back. Viktor whined and tried to follow him. Yuuri loved holding him, but he was also curious to hear what Viktor had tried to tell him.

“Sorry, Vitya, I didn’t catch that.”

Viktor looked longingly at Yuuri’s neck but then visibly steeled himself which, for some reason, included reddened ears and very shifty eyes.

“You can – me too – that way.”

Sometimes, Yuuri had to wonder of this was the same man that had charmed the pants off Paparazzi as a dainty youth, or if all those YouTube videos he liked to spend nights pouring over were cleverly manufactured lies.

“Vitya, I think you’re missing a word there. Or ten.”

Viktor grimaced but bravely tried again. Third time was the charm.

“I _said_ you can expect that from me too. To support you that way, to stay with you always. And – and if there’s anything you need from me, you can just ask. You take care of me so much and I know we both like it but I can do it too, you know? Give you what you want? I mean, I want to.”

Viktor’s cheeks were also pink now, the color more exquisite than the most beautiful of roses. Yuuri adored this Viktor; vulnerable and offering up that vulnerability, not without a fight but wholeheartedly all the same.

 _You already give me everything I want_ , Yuuri planned to say.

“You could cry for me,” he said instead.

In his defense, the sight of Viktor blushing so delicately reminded him of how lovely Viktor had looked when flushed from face to dick with unshed tears glittering in his eyes.

Viktor seemed too stunned to react. There was a strange half-smile on his frozen face.

Perhaps Yuuri should rip out his tongue and never speak again for rest of eternity.

No, wait, it would just grow back.

“What?” Viktor finally said, faint and so, so confused.

Yuuri tried and failed to find something normal and sensible to explain it away.

“You look pretty when you cry?” he offered weakly. It didn’t seem to help. “Or almost cry. I noticed the other day. When I was, um, riding you.”

The blood he’d taken that day still filled him, now rushing to his face to lend it some warmth. Viktor’s gaze zeroed in on Yuuri’s blush, the pink on his own face brightening into red as a result.

Yuuri felt something prod his ass.

Well, that was an unexpected but promising development.

“I’m…not sure if I can cry on command,” Viktor mumbled, shifting a little on the chair. He hissed almost immediately and yes, that was most certainly his hard-on Yuuri was feeling.

“Don’t worry about that,” Yuuri heard himself say. “I’ll be happy to do my part.”

Viktor groaned. Yuuri couldn’t help squirming a little if only for the sake of watching Viktor squirm in return.

“Yuuri!” he gasped, minutely thrusting his hips and obviously trying not to. “Don’t tease.”

“Oh, I would never.”

“I’ll cry for you all you want,” Viktor purred, or tried anyway. He ended up a little too breathless to pull it off. Yuuri had never empathized so hard. “If – uh – shit – if you fuck me now.”

As if that would be a problem. However–

Yuuri brushed whisper-light kisses to the tender skin of Viktor’s eyelids. He nuzzled along the side of his face before nipping softly at an earlobe.

“Vitya, I’ll fuck you till you can’t walk–”

He jumped off Viktor’s lap before he could react beyond a drawn sigh.

“–if you finish the rest of your food.”

Shocked eyes glared at him, wide with outrage.

“But Yuuri! It’s cold.”

“I’ll heat it up for you.”

Viktor grumbled but followed him to the kitchen anyway.

 

* * *

 

“Yuuri-san, you’re late today.”

There was no real admonishment in Yuuko’s voice, only an amusement that immediately made him wary. He could really see no reason for the sly grin on her face.

It wasn’t like she could have divined that the real reason behind Yuuri’s tardiness was Viktor’s grabby hands and delectable mouth.

Right?

“Sorry, I – um – I’m very sorry, Yuuko-san,” Yuuri managed to stammer. He was tempted to back away and maybe duck out of the building but Yuuko’s sugar-sweet smile held him rooted to the spot. Every instinct he had wailed for him to maybe possibly flee the country.

“It’s fine, Yuuri-san. I’m very sure you were preoccupied by some very important business. Like say, a handsome foreigner.”

Either he’d made Yuuko well and truly angry by being late by all of fifteen minutes, or she had finally decided to abandon all subtlety and quiz Yuuri on his handsome foreigner boyfriend.

He preferred the first option.

Unfortunately, he was quite sure the second was closer to the truth. They hadn’t been on many other dates, Yuuri’s aversion to sunlight and work schedule leaving them with little opportunity. But they did often take late-night strolls and Viktor sometimes chose to venture to the streets during their morning runs. Not many interacted with him beyond hand gestures and polite greetings but Hasetsu was a small town. A foreign man’s recurring presence would be noted.

Thankfully, no one was irritatingly nosy or Yuuri would be urgently looking up flights out of Japan.

“You know, I never asked you his name,” Yuuko said to him, leaning on the counter instead of leaving as she usually did once Yuuri got here.

“He’s – uh – Anton. E. Anthony.”

Yuuri had to fight very hard to hold back his grimace and also the urge to slap himself. He and Viktor had never really discussed a fake name for him. And now Yuuri’s dumpster of a mind had conjured the name of that Russian playwright Viktor liked.

It was best not to use a Russian name though. Maybe no one had registered the presence of a silver-haired man who’d came to Hasetsu in April and absolutely no one had made connections between him and Yuuri’s brown-haired lover, but he didn’t want to risk anything. He was still Katsuki Yuuri, paranoid and owning it.

Yuuko just nodded and didn’t ask anything more on the topic, probably sensing Yuuri’s discomfort. She’d always been respectful of his private nature and moments of teasing aside, she never pushed.

Hasetsu was really the perfect place for his little vacation. Or it had been. Viktor’s presence changed things but there was no need to be concerned just yet.

“I’m sorry again,” Yuuri said when the silence started to stretch too long. “I’m sure you must be impatient to go home to your family.”

Yuuko just waved dismissively, smile small and genuine.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Takeshi’s leg is way better now. I think he’ll be back to work soon, he’s so jittery being cooped up all day.”

“Guess you soon won’t need me anymore.”

Yuuko gasped, a somewhat comical look of horror taking over her face.

“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that! It’s not even, I mean we–”

Yuuri shook his head, cutting her off with a smile of his own. He didn’t need this job. He had Viktor.

“I’m fine with that actually. I don’t know how long I’ll be here for anyway. I might go with V-Anthony somewhere soon.”

It was alarming how fast Yuuko’s expression went from horrified to something like the face people made when confronted with a very cute puppy. It made Yuuri actually back up a step.

“It’s so nice that you found someone, Yuuri-san. Oh, don’t give me that look, some of us worried about you, living all by yourself in that house in the middle of nowhere.”

Yuuri just stood there and did his best impression of a fish.

“You can relax, I won’t pester you. I’m not nearly old enough to mother you, Yuuri-san.”

He was very proud of himself for managing to laugh along with her but then again, the idea of her ever being old enough for that was preposterous enough to be hilarious.

Yuuko winked at him and finally left the reception area. Yuuri let out a quiet sigh as he moved to take her place. It wasn’t that he disliked Yuuko; he was just bad with people, humans in particular.

Yuuri was settled behind the counter and Yuuko almost at the door with a friendly farewell when a hooded figure practically flew through the glass doors, nearly bowling Yuuko over as they stalked towards Yuuri.

A thin, pale hand slammed down in front of him and then there were sea green eyes glaring at him from under a messy blond fringe.

“Hey, you.” It was a boy, young and waifish, snarling in accented English and shoving a phone at Yuuri. “Have you seen this asshole?”

From the screen, Viktor looked back at Yuuri, blue eyes empty and bright smile hollow. He was holding a gold medal up to his cheek.

Somewhere in the background, Yuuko screamed.

And Yuuri heard a name.

Yuri Plisetsky.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, another cliffhanger oops! But, uh, enjoy the wild Yuri.  
> My rough outline for the first scene went like this:
> 
>  
> 
> _in medias bj_  
>  _“I want to taste you”_  
>  _infodump and hickies!_  
>  _“I’m hungry”_  
>  _viktor fears for his dick_
> 
>  
> 
> I am eloquence personified, clearly.


	10. the awful edges where you end and i begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor wakes to some horrifying news, but Yuuri's there to ease his mind in creative ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phichit lovers rejoice! Yuri lovers, wait for next the chapter.
> 
> Also there’s a background pairing in this chapter that might not be to everyone’s tastes. Check end notes if you’d like details.
> 
> To those who read this before 05/11/2017: The first scene, particularly the part where Viktor panics, has been edited into something that feels more natural. A huge heap of thanks to [stillmadaboutpetra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillmadaboutpetra) who helped me out with this.

Viktor was dragged out of a perfectly nice dream by a hand shaking his shoulder and an urgent voice calling his name.

Flashes of color and what may have been Yuuri disappared to wherever forgotten dreams went as his eyes fluttered open, blinking and squinting against the sudden assault of light.

Yuuri was usually kinder than this when waking him. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been pulled from sleep with anything other than soft kisses and sweet caresses. So it was fairly justified that his first semi-cognizant act was to grope for Yuuri and pull him onto the bed, all with his eyes barely open.

Yuuri didn’t really collapse on top of Viktor as intended but he did sit on the bed rather than continue to loom above him. Viktor rolled over and buried his face against Yuuri’s thigh, flinging an arm over his lap to keep him there.

“It’s too bright, Yuuri.”

Fingers carded through his hair, massaging gently. If he could, he’d purr.

“I don’t know what you’re saying but Vitya, get up, we need to talk.”

As much as he’d like nothing more than to curl into Yuuri and drift back to sleep, the tone of his voice prompted Viktor to reluctantly rise. Yuuri’s expression matched his voice; brows furrowed, lips thin, eyes hard – he looked an intimidating mix between worried and pissed.

And just like that, the last of Viktor’s sleep fled him.

“Yuuri, what’s wrong?”

“Yuri Plisetsky in is Hasetsu, looking for you.”

Utter silence followed those words, empty and suffocating

“Is this a joke?”

There was no humor to be seen in Yuuri’s face, only grim certainty. Of course it wasn’t a joke. Viktor knew that.

“But–”

 _Why_ s and _How_ s and _What_ s echoed in his head, a million questions that dripped confusion, frantic and incomplete and answerless. Yuri was here. He wasn’t supposed to be here.

Hasetsu was supposed to be _safe_.

Viktor saw Yuuri’s mouth move, forming words that fell shapeless on his ears. All he could hear was the pounding of his heart, slamming against his ribcage and robbing him of breath, of sense.

He saw himself reach for Yuuri, a trembling hand groping for an anchor that he found in cold fingers that wrapped tight around his wrist, firm and painful and grounding. Viktor was yanked forward, his bare torso folded into Yuuri’s arms. Soft lips brushed his ears, a weird murmuring accompanying them.

It took a while before Viktor registered what Yuuri was saying.

“Vitya, it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here and I’ve got you. No one’s going to find you. No one knows you’re here. It’s all fine, Vitya. He doesn’t know.”

An endless litany, soft and soothing, penetrating the thundering of his heart.

“He doesn’t know?” Viktor repeated, short of breath, the question almost dying in his throat.

“No, he doesn’t. And neither does anyone else.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, Vitya. I promise you’re safe.”

Viktor himself didn’t know when he’d labeled isolation and anonymity as _safe_ but he clearly had, whether consciously or otherwise, because the word eased something inside of him.

He was still breathing hard and his heart still raced. He held tight to what Yuuri had said. Yuuri wouldn’t lie to him.

“Okay,” Viktor sighed, pulling back so he could see Yuuri. He didn’t let him go though, clutching his hand tight. “I’m okay. I’m just…shocked. I didn’t – I don’t know what to – sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, please. I’m sorry I just dumped that on you. I should have been more tactful about it. Forgive me, Vitya.”

A part of Viktor was amused they were playing the apology game, but the rest of him was still reeling from the fear and confusion that had bombarded him.

“It’s okay. We’re okay. Right?”

Yuuri had promised but he needed to hear it again. It was hard to accept Yuri being here as cold, hard reality.

“We are. He showed me a picture of you and asked if you’d been to the rink. I said no and so did Yuuko after she managed to stop screaming about the whole situation.”

“That must have been a shock to her,” Viktor said with a weak laugh, awkwardly shuffling closer to Yuuri. He was once again swept up in a crushing hug that he returned with twice the enthusiasm.

“Of course it was. She’s a hardcore skating fan. Thankfully, that meant she dealt with him mostly on her own, so I managed to leave early.”

The repeated affirmation that Yuri indeed didn’t know Viktor’s location was helpful, but it didn’t erase the fact that Yuri was here for him. Viktor knew that boy, had seen him break himself on the ice for years and years, chasing jumps and spins and beauty. He was not the kind to give up, not easily, not at all.

Years of experience dealing with crises that ranged from a popped jump to his dick being plastered all over gossip rags made Viktor automatically list the ways to deal with the situation. He didn’t know how Yuri had found out about Hasetsu, or what he wanted with Viktor other than the obvious. The easiest thing to do would be to talk to him.

The very idea made him recoil violently.

Eloping to Antarctica with Yuuri was a more palatable option.

Running away in general seemed very appealing except that meant leaving Hasetsu and the precious peace he’d found with Yuuri.

“I don’t know what to do,” Viktor whispered against Yuuri’s neck.

“I take it you don’t want to see him?”

“No. God, no.”

It wasn’t that he disliked Yuri. He’d been fond of him during their time as rink-mates and that had morphed into deeper affection once he started coaching him. But any understanding the two of them shared began and died on the ice. If Yuri had come to here to get his coach back, then Viktor had no intention of indulging him. And yet, if he was here for answers, then Viktor had none he was ready to give.

“I need time,” he told Yuuri, pulling back so he could look him in the eye. They gazed back at him, warm beyond measure. “And Yura’s not someone who would accept that.”

“Yes, he did seem quite…intense.”

The expression of Yuuri’s face made it clear that ‘intense’ was an inadequate term. Viktor knew exactly what he meant.

“He’s young. You should have seen him three years ago. He was hell on legs. He’s mellowed a bit since then but I don’t think that fire will ever go away.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure I saw that fire today,” Yuuri sounded amused rather than annoyed, much to Viktor’s relief. “You sound fond of him.”

“Mm, I am,” Viktor replied unthinkingly, only catching the look on Yuuri’s face afterward. “Yuuuuri, are you jealous?”

“No,” came the bald-faced lie. It went perfectly with the distaste lacing his next words. “I only wanted to know more about your relationship with him. He’s clearly very enthusiastic about retrieving you.”

Viktor had to wonder if it was normal of him to find Yuuri’s blatant possessiveness cute. Probably not. He didn’t really care.

“I’m not his to retrieve,” Viktor said firmly, leaving no room for doubt. The minute relaxing of Yuuri’s shoulders didn’t escape him. Viktor stroked his hand up Yuuri’s clothed chest, along his taut neck and on to his face, coming to a rest on his cheek. Yuuri pressed a kiss to his palm, nuzzling into the touch.

“I’m yours to keep though,” he added, almost shy despite it not being his first time making such a declaration. The darkly pleased flare in Yuuri’s eyes was well-worth the heat of embarrassment on his cheeks.

Belonging to someone wasn’t something Viktor ever though he’d love, not when he’d spent years fighting off the feeling that he was just a pretty bauble to the public. He’d turned that on its head, had controlled and owned their adoration, had mastered the heart of a million strangers, and it hadn’t been enough.

But now he was in the grasp of a man who called him pet and bit him deep, who hid him away and drew him out, and Viktor wanted nothing more.

That was part of why he didn’t want Yuri to find them. Yuri, burning like the sun with the world at his feet, would never understand.

“I’m still curious about you and him,” Yuuri told him, mouth brushing Viktor’s skin with each word. A lone brown eye peered at him from behind a messy fall of dark hair. He looked more like he was inviting Viktor to bed rather than asking unpleasant questions.

That wasn’t quite right though. Yuuri wasn’t asking, merely stating his interest. It was up to Viktor to choose whether to answer.

It was always that way. Yuuri never hid his desire to know more about Viktor, but he never demanded anything. He liked to say they had time, never failing to touch Viktor down to his core with all the promises hidden in those simple words.

Now, though, with a prominent piece of Viktor’s past knocking on their proverbial door, time seemed a far more nebulous concept than usual.

Suddenly, it felt ridiculous to keep silent when the very thing he’d been trying to avoid was right here.

“There’s not a lot to say. Well, there is, but not much that’s relevant here. Yura was my rinkmate at first. He actually reminded me a lot of myself. Well, I was far less violent and cat-obsessed, but the talent, the drive, those are all the same. So naturally, we didn’t get along!”

Yuuri let out a bark of surprised laughter, accidentally dislodging Viktor’s hand from his face. Viktor shivered at the sight, a little stunned even now by the way Yuuri was so impossibly beautiful. He’d never get used to that. He never wanted to.

All the same, he wasn’t sure he wanted to have this conversation while looking at Yuuri’s eyes, pretty and piercing and far too capable of seeing through Viktor. It was an easy decision to lie down in Yuuri’s lap, his head cushioned on soft thighs, his body curled at the edge of the bed. Yuuri didn’t say anything, just placed one hand on Viktor’s back and the other in his hair. His smile, even upside down, did things to Viktor’s heart.

“We didn’t get along,” he continued, eyes half-closing in remembrance or regret. “But I knew he looked up to me. Everyone did. And when I retired and decided to take up coaching, what better pupil than wild little Yura whose greed for gold was as ferocious as mine used to be. I still don’t know if I was just pathetically trying to hold on to the only thing that gave my life purpose.”

He could feel Yuuri tense, could hear the faint grumble from above, but he didn’t interrupt, and Viktor, though happy at the unspoken defense, continued with his tale.

“Yakov, our coach at the time, thought I’d make a terrible coach and insisted that he and I share the position to ease me into it. I’m sure he also wanted to avoid ruining Yura’s career with my incompetence. That was the arrangement on paper, but Yura and I are both very stubborn, you know. We did what we wanted. Yura even listened to me most of the time. The most shocking thing was that the season was a huge success. For him as a skater and me as a coach… I’m afraid I stole the spotlight from him. I didn’t mean to but the press and the fans both weren’t willing to let me become anything less than the celebrity I used to be. Even those who’d doubted I’d make a good coach were suddenly singing my praises.”

It had made him happy at the time; validated like he hadn’t needed to feel since his first years in the senior circuit.

For the first time in years, Viktor Nikiforov had _surprised_ people.

He’d been a fool to think that was everything.

He scoffed. Yuuri made a questioning noise, fingers uncertainly sweeping over Viktor’s forehead. They didn’t erase his distress but they soothed something in him, deep in that place only Yuuri could reach.

“I’m fine, _lapushka_. Just remembering how silly I used to be.”

“Aren’t you still?” Yuuri quipped, poking Viktor between his eyebrows. He hadn’t even realized he was frowning.

“You wound me, Yuuri.

Viktor tried to make it light and joking but his voice came out a little too flat. The next instant, Yuuri was bent low over him, face upside down and hovering over Viktor’s.

“I adore all of you, Vitya, silly bits included. Don’t you dare think otherwise.”

Yuuri was going to kill Viktor, and he’d die a happy man. No, the happiest man.

Viktor beamed up at Yuuri, the smile so wide as to hurt. Yuuri kissed his forehead, then straightened.

“A-anyway, back to the story. I was suddenly a successful coach. Even Yakov and Yura grudgingly admitted it. I wasn’t perfect, obviously. I was basically doing what Yakov used to and winging it when that didn’t help. Most of my efforts went into Yura’s artistry – his weak point. It worked out for us. We found a balance. Or so I thought. It lasted another season. The Olympics season. That was a mess. Makkachin passed away after my birthday. I locked myself in my room. I–”

It was strange how quickly the mood could change.

Viktor choked on his words, tears thick in his throat. Yuuri’s eyes were wide and concerned, and he was saying something. Viktor could see his mouth moving, but he heard nothing except all the words that needed to escape from him.

It was like he couldn’t stop.

“Let me finish, Yuuri. I want to. Need to.”

Yuuri quieted, still gazing down at Viktor with soft concern.

“Yakov and Yura staged an intervention, dragged me to the Olympics. I’m sure they had good intentions. I was miserable though. Yura won gold and we were in the spotlight again, two prodigies – one old, one young, one already a legend, the other a rising star. The press loved us. I fucking hated it, hated everything. All my life, I’d lived for the ice, gave everything to it, and this was the aftermath. Emptiness. No one to come home to, no one to hold me. Even my dog, the only one that loved me for _me_ , was gone. I hid again. I didn’t know what to do. And when people and their goddamn good intentions tried to meddle again, I packed a bag and fled the country.” 

The tears were no longer stinging his throat but trailing down his face instead. He wiped at them angrily, only to have his hand seized in a gentle hold. It was Yuuri’s cold fingers that dried his face, the touch so sweet that it brought forth a fresh flood of tears.

“I’m only here because of you,” Viktor managed to whisper, the image of a dark ocean flashing in his mind. The water had been warm but Yuuri’s touch was so blissfully cool. “Only you’ve wanted me for me. I don’t want to go back, Yuuri. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to see any of them.”

Yuuri said nothing, just touched Viktor all over with soft caresses. Nothing sexual, just endless reassurance that did more to ground him than words could. It was as if Yuuri was promising he was here, would always be here, as Viktor’s world.

They remained like that for what may have been hours but was probably only minutes. Viktor closed his eyes and pressed his face to Yuuri’s belly. If he could, he’d sleep but his mind was kept far too awake by thoughts that refused to rest.

“You were asking me about Yura,” Viktor said, breaking the silence not without regret but unable to contain the buzzing in his head. “And I went and talked about myself. Oops.”

Yuuri chuckled, the vibrations felt all the way down his body and making Viktor shiver.

“I don’t want to know about Yuri Plisetsky. He means nothing to me outside of his connection with you. Besides, Vitya, anything you choose to share with me is a gift I will treasure.”

Viktor couldn’t see Yuuri’s face but he could imagine his expression. Intent and earnest, so much so that one could never imagine he was a creature who went around drinking blood and occasionally killing people.

“How do you just say things like that,” he whined, face burning and mercifully hidden.

It was sappy and cheesy but Yuuri _meant_ it, and Viktor could do nothing but love it.

“Very easily. We should get up. Dinner awaits.”

Viktor wanted to joke about Yuuri having him for dinner except that it wouldn’t really be a joke, and he needed some food in him if he wanted to get fucked or fed on.

And he did want it. Yuuri could make him forget everything but their skin and flesh merging, and he needed that tonight.

He was about to push himself up when Yuuri spoke again.

“I was worried he was a past lover.”

Viktor choked on his own saliva.

And when the coughing was over, he was laughing too hard to speak.

Yuri. His _lover_.

The idea was as terrifying as it was hilarious.

“He’s eighteen now, Yuuri.  Oh god. And I haven’t had a lover in about half a decade.”

He finally removed himself from Yuuri’s lap and found him staring at Viktor with an expression that was half-pleased, half-irritated. Viktor kissed him, licking away the irritation.

“It’s not like he’d have anything on you anyway,” he purred, peppering kisses all over Yuuri’s face. “My perfect Yuuri.”

“I’m not,” Yuuri rebutted as expected. But there was no hiding the smug smirk tugging at his lips.

“Mm, I disagree. That aside, I thought you’d know about him. You looked me up online, didn’t you?”

The look Yuuri shot him was pure exasperation.

“Vitya, I watch you skate and play with Makka. That’s literally all I do. All I know is what Yuuko told me once. I haven’t even touched your wiki. Anything I know of you will come from your own pretty lips.”

Viktor gasped.

Maybe he swooned a little.

He was at liberty to. Yuuri would always catch him.

And not only did he do that, he also swept Viktor into his arms as he got up, carrying him bridal style as he took long strides towards the kitchen. Viktor had decided long ago that this was his second favorite thing about Yuuri’s vampirism.

The first was, of course, the biting.

Mm, the biting.

He enjoyed the too-brief journey to the kitchen, cradled in arms that kept him so safe.

It was only once Yuuri set him down, much to Viktor’s disappointment, that he remembered something important.

“Yuuri! What will we do tomorrow? I know we were planning to go to Yu-topia again but–”

“Plisetsky is actually staying there.”

His hands furled into tight fists, nails biting into skin. Yuuri took one of them in his hands and pried it open, pressing a kiss to the tip of each finger.

Viktor melted, a little of the tension fleeing, helpless in the face of Yuuri’s care.

“Yuuko gave me the weekend off,” Yuuri told him in between close-mouthed kisses to Viktor’s palm, his wrist and all the way up his arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Plisetsky has reserved the rink. Yuuko and her kids are quite happy to deal with him.”

Yuuri’s lips were at his shoulder now, his body also tantalizingly close to Viktor’s. He turned his head and was immediately caught in a kiss, sweet for an instant before Yuuri’s tongue slid into his mouth.

Viktor had almost forgotten the whole thread of their conversation by the time they parted.

“We’re not going out,” he said a little breathlessly, wanting to chase Yuuri’s mouth but also needing an answer.

“No. We’ll stay here, just us two. I’ll make you forget the world outside exists.”

Viktor wanted to point out that Yuuri already did that on a daily basis but the words stuck in his throat, drowned by the needy whine that escaped instead.

Yuuri was a terrible tease.

He loved him anyway.

And the truth was that as nice as dates under the cover of his wig were, it was even better to just stay home with Yuuri, talking and fucking and creatively wasting time.

“Okay! I’ll hold you to that, Yuuuuri.”

Yuuri just smiled. He was probably plotting already.

“I won’t disappoint you. But now, dinner.”

 

* * *

 

Viktor woke to the wonderful smell of toast.

It was still a struggle to actually open his eyes, sleep clinging to him with admirable persistence, but the slight touch on his arm gave him the extra nudge he needed.

He found Yuuri bent over him, smiling an odd smile. His left hand balanced a tray.

Viktor blinked, surreptitiously pinched himself, and promptly shot upright at the sharp pain, unable to take his eyes off the _food_ in the tray. There were eggs and toast heaped on a plate along with a tall glass of water.

“Uh…surprise?”

The nervousness in Yuuri’s voice undid the paralysis on his tongue.

“You brought me breakfast in bed.”

It came out low and whispery without any of the sheer marvel that was filling him up inside.

“Yes. Um, I thought we could just relax today? No morning run or anything, just things. Couple things.”

Viktor didn’t tackle Yuuri with a hug only because the tray was still in his hands, and he didn’t want to ruin all of Yuuri’s hard work.

Yuuri had made breakfast for him. Yuuri, who had neither the nose nor tongue for flavors. Yuuri, who’d kept butchering the vegetables before Viktor showed him how to slice them. Yuuri, who regularly praised Viktor’s cooking while also looking like he’d rather dance in the sun than eat them.

That same Yuuri had cooked breakfast for Viktor, all by himself.

Then again, this was also the man who’d once forced down food that was neither tasty nor useful to him simply because Viktor had made it, so maybe this wasn’t too far-fetched.

It was still so impossibly sweet like only Yuuri could be. Viktor tried to let the bubbly delight brimming inside of him show on his face and in his words.

“Thank you, _lyubimiy_. For being so good to me.”

Yuuri was silent as he set down the tray in Viktor’s lap, but he looked flustered in that pleased way of his.

“What does that mean?” he asked, a little confusing to Viktor who was too busy restraining himself from throwing himself at Yuuri. The food was still at risk.

“What means what?”

“That Russian word you called me.”

To be honest, Viktor called Yuuri a lot of Russian words, most of them during sex when English and French either failed or escaped him. Recently though, he’d been allowing quite a few to slip into normal speech as well. He regretted nothing. Yuuri deserved them all.

But it wasn’t like he could explain why he was calling Yuuri his love despite never having confessed his love. He was sure Yuuri knew. Viktor was hardly subtle, and he was especially proud in his adoration of Yuuri. Still, he wanted to say the words first.

“They’re endearments,” he said instead, glancing down at his food so Yuuri wouldn’t see what must surely be a shifty expression. There was once a time when Viktor could lie convincingly. He didn’t miss it much. “Darling, sweetheart, things like that.”

Yuuri called him those too. And also Vicchan. Recent developments that birthed butterflies in Viktor’s belly.

“Oh, okay, that’s…nice.”

Viktor smiled with a mouthful of buttered toast, a sneaked glance at Yuuri confirming the small smile that Viktor loved so much. He loved all of Yuuri’s smiles though, from the sweet to the sinful.

“Is it any good?” Yuuri asked, settling against Viktor’s side on the bed. There was a blankness to the question that was all Viktor needed to know that Yuuri did indeed care about the answer.

Viktor took another bite of the bread and made a show of chewing, moaning lightly and mostly for show.

“Vitya!”

“Sorry, sorry. It’s good! Perfectly toasted and with the right amount of sugar. We’ll make a chef out of you yet, Katsuki Yuuri.”

Yuuri grumbled but the skeptical furrow of his forehead slowly disappeared as Viktor wolfed down his food, being replaced by a fond grin.

Viktor wasn’t even lying. It was good. Granted, it was hard to mess up toast but it wasn’t burnt and had enough butter and sugar to please his taste buds so Viktor counted it a win. Only after the slices were gone did he turn to the egg. Yuuri had scrambled them. Viktor scooped a forkful into his mouth–

–and only barely held back a flinch.

“Is something wrong?” Yuuri asked, palm ghosting along Viktor’s spine.

He swallowed the eggs, feeling them carve a burning path all the way down his esophagus.

“Nothing! They’re fine, I’m fine. Just – think there’s a bit of toast niggling at the back of my throat. You know how it is. Or not. I’ll just - the water.”

Yuuri watched, bemused, as Viktor took a generous gulp, washing away the taste of the eggs or rather, the _salt_.

God, that was too much salt. More salt than egg, it tasted like.

The rest of the eggs glared at Viktor from the plate, not nearly as delicious as they’d appeared a minute ago.

He looked at Yuuri who stared back with an adorable quizzical smile on his face.

Viktor didn’t have the heart to tell him.

It was just one egg and maybe a container full of salt. He was Viktor fucking Nikiforov. He could take it.

And he did, though it took another glass of water and a lot of crafty swallowing. At least Yuuri remained blissfully ignorant throughout the whole thing. Maybe Yuuri was quite a ways off the path to chefhood for now, but it was the thought that counted, right?

Besides, the soft way Yuuri’s face lit up when Viktor kissed him afterward was well worth the abuse his palette endured.

Viktor used the bathroom while Yuuri cleared up, bustling through his morning routine with a light heart and tune on his lips. He debated showering, something he usually did after the morning run, often with Yuuri joining him and distracting him in the most fun ways. He was tempted to put it off for later and run back to Yuuri but his skin felt grimy and he wanted to be comfortable if he was going to have a full day with his Yuuri. He’d even try to hold off the perpetual lethargy plaguing him for that man.

The bed was made with fresh sheets when Viktor returned to the bedroom but Yuuri wasn’t in there.

He found him in the living room, lying on the couch facing Viktor with his laptop balanced on his stomach. There was a voice coming out of the speakers in some language Viktor couldn’t identify let alone understand. He thought it was some video until Yuuri talked back in that same strange tongue.

He heard his name and the word English. The next sound that came out of the device was a high-pitched shout of “Viktor, hello! Come over here!”

Viktor just looked at Yuuri who was staring back with an expression that could only be described as long-suffering. It was no shock that he’d known Viktor was here. He’d probably heard him before he ever reached the doorway, but that didn’t make the stranger on the laptop’s invitation any less confusing.

“Vitya,” Yuuri said after taking a moment to glare at the screen. “Phichit says he wants to meet you. Would you mind…?”

Phichit?

It took a few seconds for the name to register. Yuuri’s werewolf friend. The one who had given him relationship advice.

That along with the fact that it was Yuuri’s friend, a term Viktor knew he wouldn’t use lightly, were what made him nod and approach the couch. Yuuri sat up, making space for Viktor. He hesitated for a moment, acutely aware that he had not had any interactions in quite some time with anyone who knew his real identity.

The expression Yuuri wore was one of unconcealed concern. He looked ready to snap the computer shut at a moment’s notice.

In the end, that was what made him smile and sit down. He was safe with Yuuri.

“Viktor! There you are,” said the man on the screen with a smile so big and genuine that Viktor felt his own lips widen in response.

He was pretty and dark-skinned, with black hair cropped short and falling artfully over his forehead. He looked young, barely more than a teenager. Even Yuuri, who would forever be too young for his true age, looked to be in his early twenties.

Yet, Yuuri had known this guy for several decades.

It was mind-blowing.

“Hello, Phichit,” Viktor said once he got his voice back. “I’m glad to meet you. Yuuri’s told me a lot about you.”

More like he’d had to drag each details out of the man. Yuuri had his moments of effusive sharing like that night at the beach but mostly, he was close-lipped to a fault. And by the way Phichit raised both eyebrows in his friend’s direction, he knew it too.

“Did he now? I’m afraid I can’t say the same, Viktor. I mean, sure he’s said some…interesting things out of sheer desperation but getting anything out of this guy is like pulling teeth. Do you know how long I’ve been dying to meet you?”

Viktor was half-curious and half-afraid of what those desperation-fueled things were, but he pushed that to the back of his mind and just turned a questioning look at Yuuri.

Yuuri shrugged which was good as an admission as any.

“I wasn’t aware of that, Phichit. But I have to admit that I’ve been quite content to have Yuuri monopolize my time.”

 Phichit whistled, looking a little stunned as he blinked at Viktor. Then he smirked, suggestively dragging his gaze over to Yuuri.

“Wow, he really is perfect for you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri made a strained sound, looking like he’d very much like to slam his head against a hard surface, but his arm was firm and solid as it settled around Viktor’s shoulder and drew him closer.

“Yes,” Yuuri said, fond and smug. “He is.”

At that, there was nothing Viktor could do but beam and snuggle into him, throwing his own arm around Yuuri in turn.

Phichit was also smiling at them, eyes darting between Yuuri and Viktor before finally settling on Viktor.

“Sweet,” he said simply. “You’re good for him, Viktor. Never thought I’d see the day when someone got to this guy so bad. I’m impressed.”

It was flattering to have someone who’d been with Yuuri during at least some of his extensive past say that. Viktor preened, laying his head on Yuuri’s shoulder. The hand holding him tightened, and he felt a light pressure on his head. Phichit’s expression alone said that Yuuri had kissed him.

“Wow. Anyway, Viktor, I watched some of your videos back when Yuuri mentioned you. Gotta say, the cameras didn’t do you justice.”

That was objectively a nice thing to say and also very much a lie because the Viktor in those videos were younger, prettier, and manufactured to perfection. Unless Phichit meant they made him seem more appealing than he was now in which case, it made sense but also stung.

Viktor may have grown too tired to be as vain as he’d used to be, but it still wasn’t pleasant to be told that his physicality was disappointing, especially not when the world’s most beautiful man sat beside Viktor, destined forever remain that way.

He tried not to think about that.

Phichit, continued, unaware of the turmoil inside Viktor because only one person could read him like an open book, and Yuuri wasn’t looking at Viktor.

“I mean, you look good skating and in interviews. But it’s that celebrity perfection kinda good, you know? Cool as fuck but untouchable. Now, you look more real and yeah, it’s way better. I swear you’re glowing, and I’d ask what I want to, but your boyfriend there might actually kill me.”

“Yes, I would,” Yuuri confirmed, the deadpan delivery bouncing right off Phichit, who only snickered into his hand.

Viktor was too busy digesting Phichit’s words to even react to that.

Glowing and more real? Viktor certainly _felt_ more real with Yuuri. And he’d long since noticed that a spark had returned to his eyes. But he hadn’t really known that all of it actually made him look better than before in other people’s eyes. Either Phichit was uncannily observant or it was that obvious.

And that was a surprisingly good thought.

Still, when Yuuri’s fingers tapped covertly at his bicep, and he turned to be met with brown eyes holding a clear question, Viktor smiled and nodded, saying _yes, that was nice of your friend to say but let’s move on now_. Yuuri did just that.

Phichit, who’d been watching the interaction, opened his mouth to say something, but Yuuri neatly cut him off, gentle but with steel threading his voice.

“Enough of that, Phichit. You can harass him later. Let’s get back to business.”

“I wasn’t harassing!” Phichit said the same time Viktor asked, “Business?”

“You didn’t tell him?” Phichit questioned Yuuri who gave Viktor an apologetic smile.

“Ah, no, I wanted to check with you first.”

“Yuuri, what’s going on?”

Viktor shifted so he was facing Yuuri, dislodging the hand on his shoulder. Phichit was forgotten amidst the growing pool of dread in his guts at the thought of Yuuri keeping something from him. Yuuri seemed to sense it too. He took Viktor’s hand in its own, gripping it tight. He also muted the video call, exchanging glances with his friend in communication that needed no words.

“Well, you see, Phichit knows someone who’s very good at forging papers. All kinds of papers. New identities and everything that comes with. We need it a lot these days and I was, just in case of course, asking if he could arrange a couple. For us.”

At this point, it wasn’t even a surprise that Yuuri had contacts that could get him illegal papers but the latter part still threw him for a loop.

“You mean passports and the like?”

Yuuri nodded, his expression an unlikely blend of determination and apprehension.

Viktor didn’t need to think much to know why he was doing this now.

“Do you think we’ll need it?”

“I don’t know, Vitya. But Yuri Plisetsky’s presence is a risk. So is the attention he may bring with him. If you decide to handle this personally, I’ll support you, but it’s better that we have a plan for the worst-case scenario. Viktor Nikiforov can be tracked. We should fix that.”

Yuuri had done this before, casually imply that the two of them had a future beyond the sleepy confines of Hasetsu. And Viktor never got tired of hearing that, never stopped replaying those words when uncertainty crept in, but all of a sudden, the possibility of their departure seemed far too eminent, even more so than when Yuuri had woken him last night with a shocking name on his lips.

Viktor didn’t want to leave.

Doubts, kept at bay by Yuuri’s tender care and Hasetsu’s gentle peace, threatened to rouse. He forced them down.

No, he didn’t want to leave, but if he had to, if _they_ had to, if the choice was between staying on as Viktor Nikiforov and leaving as Yuuri Katsuki’s kept human, then his decision was clear.

“Okay. I still wish you’d have told me.”

Yuuri was visibly penitent as he bent to brush a kiss to Viktor’s knuckles.

“I’m sorry, Vitya. I really don’t expect us to need it yet. I just wanted to be prepared. But you’re right, I should have.”

Viktor sighed and relaxed, squirming back to Yuuri’s side. The call was resumed.

Phichit looked like he really wanted to comment on the brief break but he refrained, maybe because Yuuri kept glaring at him.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, batboy. I hope you two got your shit sorted out.”

“Sorry about that, Phichit,” Viktor replied. “It’s just that I wasn’t aware of the purpose of this call. I thought Yuuri was just catching up with a friend.”

Loud laughter was not the reaction he expected. Beside him, Yuuri huffed, apparently not surprised by Phichit’s sudden hysterics.

“Yeah, Viktor, no. This asshole – and I say that with love – wouldn’t call me unless he needs something. Fun fact, these last two were about you.”

“I text you all the time, Phichit.”

“Please, don’t give me that shit. You’re only doing it because I threatened to haul my butt to Japan. And anyway, speaking of this call, I don’t see why you can’t just contact Ketty yourself.”

“She likes you better. That means she’ll work faster.”

Phichit rolled his eyes.

“Bullshit, Yuuri, just because you messed up that one time doesn’t–”

“Phichit, is that Yuuri?”

Viktor, who’d been content to watch the amusing exchange between Yuuri and Phichit, jumped as a new voice rang from the speakers, deep and heavily accented. Soon, a body ambled into view, stopping behind Phichit’s chair and leaning down to peer into the camera.

It was a man, tanned and broad, with a generous chin and long brown hair that remained luxurious and non-graying despite him clearly being older than Viktor by at least a decade.

Viktor had to sit on his hands to resist the urge to touch his slightly longer but also very much thinner hair. His forehead was growing like a desert. He lived in fear of a bald spot. He did not need this stranger flaunting his own assets like this.

Was it odd of him to wish that he was also some flavor of supernatural? It would just be unfair otherwise.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Yuuri give him what was surely a weird look, but his attention was drawn by the new arrival.

“Yuuri! It is you! How have you been?”

“Hey, Celestino. I’m fine. Great, actually.”

“Oh, who’s this with you?”

Phichit answered before Yuuri or Viktor could.

“That’s Viktor. He’s Yuuri’s pet! And mate!”

Yuuri squeaked, head whipping to look at Viktor. He didn’t deny the claim. And Viktor, gazing with wide-eyed wonderment at him, had no wish to ever deny it.

“I like that,” he whispered, only for Yuuri’s ears.

Yuuri relaxed at that, eyes going soft, and Viktor knew that if not for the audience of two, they’d be horizontal on the couch this moment.

When they managed to wrench their attention back to the laptop, it was in time to see Celestino kiss Phichit and leave with a jovial _Ciao Ciao!_ to the camera.

Beside him, he felt Yuuri lose some of his tenseness.

“Nice of you two to stop the eye-fucking and join me,” Phichit ribbed, sly grin lending a devious cast to his face. Viktor didn’t even know the guy that well, yet he was already willing to bet a limb that his sweet face hid a smooth demon.

“Phichit,” Yuuri sighed, a sound of pure resignation. “Censor that mouth of yours.”

“Never. You know I’m all about freedom of expression. Besides, _he_ sure seemed to like it.”

The last sentence was accompanied by some truly skillful eyebrow gymnastics in Viktor’s direction. He winked in response. Yuuri just groaned.

“I give up. Move on. The papers.”

Phichit pouted mock-seriously but sobered up all the same.

“Yeah, I’ll talk to her. I’m sure she’ll do it. What about names and pictures?”

“Go wild with mine. You enjoy that sort of thing. What about you, Vitya?”

This was so surreal.

If someone had told him a few months ago that he’d find himself discussing identity fraud with a vampire and a werewolf, he’d have checked them for a fever. And maybe delusions.

“I…have no idea? It’s not like I make a habit of this.”

 _Unlike You_ remained unsaid.

Phichit snorted, and even Yuuri chuckled a little.

“I did accidentally tell Yuuko your name was Anthony yesterday.”

Viktor stared. And stared some more.

“Anthony. Really.”

“I panicked, okay?”

“That’s random as hell but it’s pretty different from Viktor so there’s that. Last names?”

“Same ones!” Viktor exclaimed almost before Phichit finished the question. Two pairs of dark eyes turned on him. A telltale warmth crawled up his cheeks.

“Just… give us the same last names? Like family.”

“Or husbands,” Phichit said suggestively and Viktor did nothing but blush harder because yes, that was precisely what he’d been thinking too.

Cool lips touched his burning cheek, startling him. He turned to gape at Yuuri who had already turned back to the laptop.

“That’s decided then. I’ll send you the pictures later, Phichit. Bye now.”

“So cruelly dismissed. But having seen your man, I get why. Have fun, kids, be safe.”

“I am literally centuries older than you,” Yuuri said, the words falling on deaf years as Phichit blinked away from the screen. Yuuri shut the laptop with an undoubtedly fond smile.

“Talking to him is always an experience.”

“I bet,” Viktor murmured, lifting a hand to turn Yuuri’s face towards him. They kissed, tipping forward almost at the same time to meld their lips in a slow, steady exploration that fed the exhilaration inside Viktor.

The call had given him many things to think about, but only one word rang in Viktor’s mind as he pressed Yuuri to the touch with mouth and hands and body.

_Mate._

 

* * *

 

They eventually stopped making out, mostly because Yuuri insisted on “doing this properly”, whatever that meant. It wasn’t like they were waiting to fuck on their wedding night.

Viktor was miffed to be left with tingling lips and a racing pulse, but Yuuri returned soon after with the charger for his laptop. He didn’t stay, rushing to the kitchen and emerging a few minutes later with flavored soda and packaged popcorn. He deposited the food in Viktor’s lap, either genuinely oblivious to or purposefully ignoring his utter bewilderment.

“I have a plan,” Yuuri told him as he connected the charger. “I spent all night thinking of this. Resources are limited but we’ll make it work.”

Shockingly enough, Viktor was no less confused.

“What?”

He didn’t get an answer, but he did get Yuuri who settled on one edge of the couch and drew Viktor between his legs. He went willingly, only too happy to be that much closer to Yuuri. The laptop was set on his thighs. Yuuri had a bit of trouble operating it around Viktor who was broader than him, but since Viktor had no idea what his lover was doing, he couldn’t help.

Only once Yuuri found his intended folder – which seemed to be full of movies – did he speak, right into Viktor’s ear.

“I know you wanted a date today. I’m sorry it had to be cancelled.”

He tried to protest that Yuuri didn’t need to apologize, that he was quite happy to stay here with him, but then a cold hand cupped his cheek, tilted his face to the side, and suddenly, he was swimming in twin pools of red-flecked brown.

It wasn’t that he ever forgot how beautiful Yuuri was.

But sometimes, like this moment, he could barely breathe for it.

“I wanted to give you a nice indoor date,” Yuuri whispered, nosing gently along the side of Viktor’s face. “Movies seemed to be a good idea. The internet had a lot more suggestions, but uh, some of those got a little outlandish.”

 _Of course_ his Yuuri would scour the internet for dating ideas.

He’d also somehow make movies on the couch seem to be the height of romance.

Viktor giggled, straining his neck to press a kiss to the corner of Yuuri’s mouth.

“Movies are a wonderful idea, my Yuuri.”

“Mm, you pick.”

Yuuri did have an extensive collection on his laptop, most of the titles unfamiliar to Viktor. Movies had been low on the list of viable entertainment during his heyday. Some quick googling later, he picked the one from last year with the lady cyborg and leaned back against Yuuri, heart swelling with love.

Eight hours and three movies later, he was pleasantly drowsy and unspeakably happy. The movies they’d seen were all good, nothing special but engaging enough, but it was the act of watching it with Yuuri, half-dressed and pressed close, that made it so good, so perfect, and Viktor was almost loath for it to end despite his muscles protesting rather loudly.

Yuuri laughed fondly as he watched Viktor stretch and promptly melt into the bed. They’d moved to the bedroom after breaking for lunch, heating up leftovers from last night. He’d barely had an appetite after the popcorn and melon soda so there was still enough left for dinner. Viktor was in no mood to cook anyway and as sweet as Yuuri’s intentions were, he was better off dicing vegetables and stirring soups than trying anything creative.

He turned to his side and burrowed into Yuuri, squishing his face against his soft belly. Yuuri had taken off his shirt a while ago and his skin was delightfully cool as always. They’d need good heating for winter though.

“Vitya, don’t fall asleep.”

“Sorry, already asleep,” he mumbled, even going as far as to fake a snore. He did not snore, no matter what Yuuri said.

For a moment, he thought Yuuri would let it be but that complacency proved to be his undoing. The hand that came to rest on his back was always welcome but the innocent strokes that turned into cruel fingers digging into his vulnerable side were most certainly _not_.

Viktor yelped and tried to roll away, but Yuuri’s other arm came to pin him in place while the other continued to alternate between deep pokes and feathery glides, both of them wrecking hell on Viktor.

He hadn’t even known he was ticklish. Yuuri sure as hell couldn’t have known he was ticklish.

He squirmed and shrieked, all pretence of sleep abandoned as he tried, for once, to get away from Yuuri. He managed eventually, biting hard above Yuuri’s navel and using that moment of distraction to sidle to safety, his arms crossed protectively over his torso and panting from forced laughter.

“That was mean, Yuuri!”

Yuuri’s face scrunched into an expression that was probably meant to be apologetic. But the effect was ruined by how his lips kept twitching up. Viktor wanted to try and get revenge, but he had a healthy caution about putting himself with Yuuri’s striking range for now.

“Woke you up though,” Yuuri said once he was able to keep a straight face. Viktor was not amused.

“Asshole.”

Yuuri did grin this time.

“I’m sure you say that with love too.”

And just like that, Viktor’s indignation flew out the window because that joke hit a little too close to home. Yuuri, though, had used the time to close in and missed the look on Viktor’s face. He was relieved and disappointed as he opened up to a sweet, stunning kiss. He tried to tell him with his lips and tongue, tracing love letters into the roof of Yuuri’s mouth.

Yuuri’s eyes were soft and smiling when they parted, but there was no realization on his face, no reaction. Viktor felt the words in his throat, eager and afraid to be released.

“Don’t sleep yet, Vitya, our date’s not over yet. Let me draw you a bath?”

Viktor gulped, choking down everything but the breathless affirmation that Yuuri stole from his lips.

And then he was gone, and Viktor was alone in bed with a thundering heart and clammy palms.

It didn’t make sense why he couldn’t just spit out the words. They were no more incriminating than the way Viktor acted around Yuuri. He was so far gone that one could see it from space.

Yuuri may not feel the same. In fact, Viktor was sure Yuuri didn’t because nothing he’d said of his kind implied that they experienced emotions the same way humans did. But Viktor was equally sure that Yuuri would label what he felt love. It was there in his eyes and hands and the promises both said and unsaid.

That line of thought kept him wide awake until Yuuri returned, wearing nothing but a towel.

And as much as Viktor wanted to slip off that flimsy bit of white and have his way with this exquisite creature, he kept his hands to himself as he stripped, not bothering with modesty as he followed Yuuri out. There was no need for it – the marks left by Yuuri’s teeth and hands were not things he ever wanted to hide. He lounged around naked almost always anyway.

Yuuri didn’t join him as he showered but he was waiting for Viktor at the bath, perched on the tub’s edge with one hand idly playing with the water.

He smiled, holding out his hand, and Viktor went to him like a man enchanted.

The water was warm and welcoming and Viktor sunk into it with a sigh. He knew Yuuri liked it hotter, hot enough to burn his own cold skin, but this was clearly meant for Viktor. The thought alone made him as warm as the bath inside.

Yuuri followed him into the bathtub, sitting opposite with his legs slotted over Viktor’s. Water spilled out the sides, falling on the tiles with a loud splash.

“Best date ever,” Viktor said, gently nudging his legs against Yuuri’s.

“It’s not over yet.”

Viktor smiled, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. The unspoken confession still haunted his thoughts but right this moment, with scented warmth soothing his bones and Yuuri mere feet away, it was hard to worry.

They were silent for the remainder of the bath. Whenever Viktor opened his eyes, it was to see Yuuri watching him, the look on his face halfway between the hunger of their heated tumbles and the sweetness of their tender moments. It was hot and intense and wholly consuming, and Viktor felt it touch him in places that had never been touched until Yuuri came into his life.

He could never hold that gaze too long but the afterimage was burned into his lids.

Several minutes after the water turned lukewarm, Yuuri stood and climbed out. Viktor watched him with a heavy gaze, not making a move to follow until Yuuri took his hand and tugged. Viktor stepped out and into a kiss, lazily mouthing along Yuuri’s chin, brushing their lips together with subdued heat. He skimmed his hands along Yuuri’s slick skin, stopping at his waist, something about the moment not allowing him to go further.

Viktor was the one who broke the kiss but he didn’t move, not until Yuuri drew him towards the folded towels. Viktor tried to reach for one but Yuuri beat him to it, shaking his head when Viktor held out his hand.

Instead, Yuuri stepped closer and started gently toweling Viktor’s hair. He bent his head, dazed and wordless, as Yuuri dried his hair and the rest of him, methodic and sensual. The rough drag of the towel down his neck, shoulders, chest, stomach, legs, arrested his breath, leaving him gasping as Yuuri finally rose from his crouch with one last caress of Viktor’s ankles.

“Are you pampering me?” he asked weakly, voice faint even to his own ears.

“I like taking care of you,” was all Yuuri said, punctuating the words with a light kiss right where Viktor’s heart pounded against his ribs.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Viktor felt like he was floating above his own body, watching it move and eat with wondrous detachment. And then there was Yuuri, also watching Viktor with a smile softening his mouth and heat sharpening his eyes; one glorious contradiction.

Viktor was half-asleep by the time they retired to bed. Or maybe that wasn’t the right word. He felt full of something luminous and effervescent and unnamable.

Yuuri was the one who took off Viktor’s pants, kneeling by the bed as he raised each leg and pulled down the fabric, casting it away as he nudged Viktor to lie down properly. He did, molding himself against Yuuri the moment he joined him.

The first, tentative touch on his cock startled him, a questioning noise slipping out. Yuuri kissed it away, murmured _Let me, Vitya_ and Viktor had to do nothing but let Yuuri grip and stroke and twist, bringing him off slow and sweet. He came with a broken gasp of _Yuuri_ , the name eaten off his tongue by hungry lips.

He was only vaguely aware of Yuuri leaving and cleaning him up but he did stir when he returned to bed. He wrapped his arms around Yuuri, yearning to twine his whole being around this wonderful man.

“An’ you?” he managed to ask, picking limply at the pants Yuuri was still wearing.

He didn’t see but felt Yuuri shake his head.

“I’m fine. Sleep, Vitya.”

Viktor slept.

 

* * *

 

He woke with sleep-crusted eyes and an aching bladder.

He tried to ignore it, buying his face in his pillow and willing himself back to sleep, but the pressure down below was insistent and bordering on painful. He gave up and heaved himself upright, grumbling a half-articulated curse that earned him a chuckle from his bedmate.

It was then that Viktor looked at Yuuri. He was lying on his side, head propped on palm and facing Viktor.

Well, Viktor had long since accepted that Yuuri liked to watch him sleep.

“It’s only five, Vitya.”

“Bathroom,” Viktor bit out before stumbling out of the room, as bare as the day he was born. He felt Yuuri’s eyes on him till he was out the door. That brought the day’s first smile to his face.

By the time his business was done, he was way more awake than he had any desire to be and the bed was more appealing for having Yuuri in it than the promise of continued sleep. It was hardly a bad trade off. Viktor’s dick certainly liked the idea.

He washed his face, scrubbing his eyes and brushing his teeth with haste, eager to return though not for the same reason he had when he left the bed.

Yuuri was sprawled on his back, hands folded on his stomach and eyes firmly closed, when Viktor returned. He looked fast asleep but Viktor knew better even without the smile that lit Yuuri’s lips when the door banged shut.

Now that he was quite awake, memories of last night were at the forefront of his mind. It was enough to make him hot inside and out, skin tingling with phantom caresses. Yuuri had been so gentle, so thorough, tending to Viktor as if he were a king.

He’d basked in it last night. It would always be a cherished memory.

But now, the most prominent thought in Viktor’s mind was that he wanted to return the favor, wanted to make Yuuri feel good too.

Dark eyes watched him curiously as he stalked to the bed and crawled over Yuuri, looming with his knees on the bed and hands on Yuuri’s shoulders. He was close enough to see the red that flickered in Yuuri’s eyes, as sure a sign of his interest as the swelling between his legs.

“I thought you were going back to sleep.”

There was a faint rumble in Yuuri’s voice, making it darker and deeper in that way Viktor loved. He fought back a shiver. He didn’t want to become a mess this early in the game.

“I changed my mind,” he replied, dipping his head until his forehead rested against Yuuri’s. “I want you instead.”

He gasped in spite of himself when cold hands seized his body, fingers digging hard into his shoulders for a moment before they dragged across his back in a slow, sensual slide, nails scaring lightly against the skin and making him shiver. They came to rest on his ass, confidently grabbing handfuls of the flesh and squeezing.

Viktor shuddered against Yuuri, breath caught in a moan that was swallowed as Yuuri surged to take his mouth in a kiss. He melted into Yuuri, hands coming up to grasp his face as Yuuri’s own hands has their merry way down below, massaging and spreading the globes of Viktor’s ass, fingers occasionally straying to rub at his hole with too little pressure.

It was hard to focus on the kiss when he was being cruelly teased and Viktor ended up just panting open-mouthed against Yuuri as he licked and bit at Viktor’s mouth, flicking his tongue in and out as he pleased. A thumb pressed against his entrance, dry and blunt, but Viktor pushed into it anyway, whining low in his throat as the tip slipped inside with a burning sting.

Yuuri broke the kiss with a hard little nip at Viktor’s lower lip. The familiar pain was more pleasure than anything else by this point. Viktor couldn’t remember if he had always liked this or if Yuuri’s bites just evoked some kind of Pavlovian response in him.

“You’re eager this morning,” Yuuri told him, one hand abandoning his ass in favor of drifting to his cock, taking hold of the half-hard length and stroking it to life. Viktor couldn’t help glancing between their bodies to watch. A guttural groan slipped out at the sight of his cock, flushed a deep pink, peeking out from and disappearing back into the circle of Yuuri’s hand. The touches were light and easy and nowhere near enough.

“Come on,” Viktor urged, straightening up and properly straddling Yuuri to better push into his touch. He was under no illusion that Yuuri would make him come like this but he could enjoy it while it lasted.

Or not, since Yuuri removed his hands entirely with cute pats on Viktor’s dick and ass both. It’d have made him smile if he wasn’t too busy feeling somewhat murderous.

Clearly, the indulgent Yuuri of last night had vanished and teasing bastard Yuuri had taken his place.

Well, Viktor did love them both. And he had been planning to return the favor before Yuuri sneakily distracted him.

“You’re wearing too much, Yuuri,” he said, yanking at the waistband of Yuuri’s sweats. The loose elastic slipped down easily, exposing the head of Yuuri’s cock. Viktor didn’t really want to leave his comfortable perch on Yuuri’s stomach but he wanted Yuuri to remain clothed even less so. Yuuri himself didn’t seem inclined to do much more than lie there and watch as Viktor awkwardly knee-walked to the foot of the bed and tugged off the offending fabric. The trouble was more than worth it to have Yuuri naked, a vision straight from heaven from the arch of his foot to the curve of his cock to the sweep of his lashes.

“Why do you ever wear clothes?”

That won him a chuckle that turned into a hiss when Viktor bent to press his lips to Yuuri’s ankle, unable to resist as little nibble.

“I rarely wear underwear these days,” Yuuri answered, eyes hot on Viktor as he made his way back up the bed. They weren’t red yet. Guess he had to try harder.

He settled with his butt flush against Yuuri’s thighs, their erections grazing with each breath he took.

“That’s not enough. It’s a crime to cover you up.”

The last part was said with a meaningful glance at Yuuri’s cock, standing thick and proud amidst a riot of black curls. Viktor’s mouth watered and his ass clenched. He was never going to get enough of Yuuri, was he?

“Me?” Yuuri scoffed, drawing Viktor’s attention back to his face. “Look at _you_ , Vitya. You’re the beautiful one. Pretty and perfect and all mine.”

And just like that, whatever rebuttal was on his tongue withered. The flash of heat that slammed into him was almost debilitating and even more embarrassing was the way his cock twitched, fluid beading at the tip.

“Y-yuuri! That’s not playing fair.”

The accusation just slid off Yuuri. He was lying with his hands limp beside him, but his gaze devoured Viktor, their weight trailing heat and intent along each inch of Viktor’s body.

“What do you want, Vitya?”

“Ride you. I want you in me.”

It was Yuuri who groaned this time, eyes flashing red and staying that way, boring into Viktor with newfound fire.

There wasn’t much talking beyond that. Viktor prepared himself, Yuuri’s hand strong and steadying on his legs as he coaxed his hole open, lube dripping off his fingers onto Yuuri’s legs and the bed. Yuuri looked on with teeth digging into his lips and a predatory cast to his face, little growls and moans escaping him as Viktor’s hand vigorously worked behind him.

It was bliss to finally to sink onto Yuuri’s cock, the wide girth of it spreading him open as gravity pulled him down. The angle was harsh in the most perfect way, forcing Viktor to feel every millimeter of the cock buried inside him. He almost didn’t want to move, just wanted to feel this full forever.

Yuuri had other ideas.

Hands clamped on his hips, lifting him up with little effort. Viktor barely had time to shout his surprise before he was slammed back down in one hard pull that made stars burst behind his eyes.

He’d been expecting Yuuri to remain passive and compliant for the whole of this but this man clearly lived to surprise Viktor into an early grave. The grip working him up and down Yuuri’s length didn’t let up, only picking up the pace as Viktor’s muscles further relaxed around him. Yuuri didn’t thrust, his hips remaining firmly on the bed, but he moved Viktor’s body with enough vigor to make up for it.

There were noises in the air, bitten off cries and curses from them both that mingled into an unlikely melody.

Viktor braced his hands on Yuuri’s chest and moved in tandem with the hands directing him, sinking down on Yuuri fast and hard and deep, his own dick bouncing with the motion. It was hard to think amidst the sweet ache between his legs and the cold drag of cock along his heated walls. Easier, then, to bow his head and bite his lips and let himself be fucked, Yuuri’s grunts of pleasure echoing in his head.

Easier but not enough.

“Please,” he wheezed as the angle shifted and put pressure on his prostate, sending electric shocks through his body. “Please. Yuuri, I – _please_.”

He didn’t know what he was begging for but it wasn’t for Yuuri to sit up, temporarily stilling Viktor as the position changed. Their chests pressed together, and Viktor tucked his face into Yuuri’s neck with a grateful sigh, muffling his moans against his throat as the fucking resumed. And it was good, so good, Yuuri’s hands now on his ass as he gripped Viktor tight and pushed him down to take the full length of his cock.

Viktor’s hole clenched around the cool flesh, convulsing in time with the red-hot throb of the bruises scattered along his neck.

He lifted a shaking hand to press to the large bruise marring the base of his neck, hooking his fingers into the tender skin with little mercy. It _hurt_ , plain lashing down his spine.

He knew what he needed.

He raised his face, trailed wet kisses up Yuuri’s neck and dug his teeth into his lobe. Yuuri responded with a swift snap of his hips that had Viktor smothering a shriek.

“Bi – _ah_ – bite me. Feed on me.”

There was a difference between biting and feeding and they both knew it all too well by now. And Viktor had been counting days since the moment Yuuri’s fangs sunk into his thighs. It wasn’t time yet but it was so, so close. A couple of days didn’t matter.

Yuuri let out a burst of pained laughter, and Viktor figured he’d said all that out loud. He didn’t care. He needed it.

“Yuuri, come on. I know you want it.”

A disorienting flash later, Viktor was on his back and too fucking empty, a problem which was remedied as Yuuri thrust into him in one ruthless slide. Viktor may have screamed. He didn’t know. All he could see was the red of Yuuri’s eyes and the white of his fangs.

“I want it, I always want it. Fuck, Vitya, you’ll be useless for the rest of the day. You know how it gets.”

Viktor managed a mangled denial, but from the way Yuuri’s stare zeroed in on the curve of his neck, it wasn’t needed anyway.

“That’s fine. And it won’t be like last time. I’ll take better care. Come, Yuuri, please.”

“I want to finish first,” Yuuri told him and the implicit agreement didn’t register until he was folded in half and fucked within an inch of his life, Yuuri pounding into him with barely constrained violence, carving new bruises into Viktor as he chased his climax in a frenzy.

Viktor’s throat ached, incapable of reining in the cries that shuddered and broke as Yuuri froze with a ragged groan, bending over Viktor as his cock twitched inside of him.

Viktor was still painfully hard, slick all over with his own precum. Yuuri didn’t so much as look at Viktor’s cock as he pulled out of him, letting his legs collapse to the bed. Yuuri stretched over him in one sinuous motion, striking with pinpoint precision.

Viktor didn’t even scream this time, _couldn’t_ ; there was only stunned silence as pain flared at his neck, followed by mind-hollowing ecstasy as Yuuri’s mouth worked at the wounds.

The last two times and the lesser pleasure of the intermediary bites had done little to dull this feeling; fire and ice bloomed in his veins, spreading from his neck and racing down his body, leaving him a quivering mess in their wake. Yuuri’s mouth was a scorching brand on Viktor’s throat, swallowing down everything that made him in greedy gulps that he could hear before it was drowned in an eerie buzzing.

Movement was hard, thinking was hard; there was only the pleasure breaking him apart, and Yuuri.

It was with a filthy wet sound that Yuuri’s mouth left his neck, a quick touch of tongue closing the punctures. The bruise would remain, red and angry for Viktor touch and play with.

Yuuri’s head appeared in his vision. His eyes were wide and crimson.

Viktor’s hands were twined loosely around Yuuri There was come cooling on his belly. He didn’t recall doing any of that.

And he didn’t realize the odd buzzing sound was his own mouth moving in a whispery chant, not until his head cleared and the words became clear.

I love you I love you I love youIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou _IloveyouIlove_ –

Oh.

Shit.

“Yuuri, I–”

He fell silent as Yuuri’s hand came to touch his face, stroking his cheek and the wetness on them that Vikor hadn’t even known was there. He’d cried for Yuuri after all. The thought would be more pleasing if not for the more pressing issue of his botched confession.

He’d wanted to do it right.

And if he hadn’t known what right was, well then–

“Do you mean it?”

Despite the nervous flutter in his stomach, there was only one answer to that.

“Of course I did. I love you, Yuuri. How can I not?”

“It’s not just the…bite, is it? You’re not–”

Strangely enough, seeing Yuuri need reassurance calmed Viktor.

“Katsuki Yuuri, _I love you_. It’s no epiphany. I’ve known it for weeks. I just couldn’t – didn’t know how to tell you.”

And honestly, that felt stupid now when Yuuri’s awestruck eyes held not even a hint of rejection.

The kiss they shared was sweet and soft, lips lingering close with little movement, just the comfort of touch. Viktor felt like a man reborn when they pulled back, giddy and weightless. Granted, that might also have to do with the great sex and the bite.

Yuuri gazed down at him the most endearing smile, small and shy and so true.

He also remained silent.

“…Yuuri?”

“Mm?”

“Got something you wanna tell me?”

There was a suspended moment when Viktor’s heart leapt to his throat, and then Yuuri’s eyes widened once again, something like chagrin twisting his expression.

“Oh! Yes, I feel the same. Of course I do, Vitya, I thought it was…obvious…”

Yuuri trailed off, meeting Viktor’s knowing look with a sheepish smile.

“I love you,” Yuuri said firmly, and hearing the words was a wonder of its own. An uncontrollable grin split Viktor’s face. “I love you with everything I am, Vitya. Even though I don’t think you understand what it means.”

Yuuri arranged himself on the bed beside Viktor, one leg still thrown over him. Viktor, pleased by the returned confession and puzzled by the addendum, turned to face him, wincing as his neck and ass both twinged.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m – well, I’m a vampire.”

Viktor gave him a Look.

Yuuri just shrugged helplessly, gaze shuttering and brows furrowing in that way Viktor had grown to recognize as Yuuri struggling to put his thoughts in order. He waited, holding on to the memory of _I love you with everything I am_ , and told himself he wasn’t worried.

If Yuuri’s love was affected by his nature, then that made sense. Viktor had been told in explicit terms, unwitting examples included, how different Yuuri’s mindset was from that of a normal person – no, not that, just from the mind of a human. It wouldn’t be far-fetched to imagine emotions were the same. After all, he’d declared his desire to possess Viktor long before they were in any kind of relationship. Viktor had accepted that and everything else that was part and parcel of Yuuri.

He’d accept this too.

The simple truth was that he knew he’d continue to love Yuuri no matter what.

And yet, his heart was racing in its bone prison by the time Yuuri finally spoke, one tender hand coming to rest on Viktor’s neck as if in comfort.

“You know by now that we’re wired differently. Love is the same. I do care for you. So very much. More than I’ve ever felt before and more than I ever thought I’d feel. For anyone. The thing is that I worry, when I remember that it is worrying, that you’ll really, truly understand how my love is and run for it.”

All of a sudden, Viktor felt like they were rehashing a very old conversation.

“Yuuri, how many times, in how many contexts, must I tell you that I will never run from you? I do not want to. I never will.”

Usually, that would make Yuuri smile, at least with his eyes, but now he just stared at Viktor with somber speculation.

“Would you tell me the same if I say I want to possess you wholly, mind, body and soul? If I want all of you all to myself for the rest of eternity? If I shudder to think of you even meeting Yuri Plisetsky because I fear you will realize your human life is better than being with me?”

Viktor blinked.

“That’s it?”

All that anxious waiting and this was what Yuuri had to say? It was a nice speech, very dramatic, ten out of ten would applaud, but…really?

Yuuri had the grace to look nonplussed.

 “Yes?”

Viktor gave him another Look.

“Yuuri, none of that is news to me. Well, except the last bit. But you don’t need to fear. I don’t want to meet Yura yet and when, some day in the future, I decide I’m ready for it, that will not make me rethink my feelings for you. Really, Yuuri. You’re smarter than this. You know me better than this.”

Finally, it was there, that slightly surprised smile that softened Yuuri’s face whenever Viktor did or said something unexpected that pleased him.

“Idiot,” Viktor breathed, leaning in to kiss the tip of that smile.

“Only for you,” Yuuri returned, so helplessly sincere that Viktor had no choice but to hug him close, not even caring about the semen smearing their skin as he tried his best to fuse with Yuuri.

He liked being Yuuri’s but he liked this too. Yuuri, wonderful and terrible, being all his.

And that reminded him…

“Phichit called me your mate. What does that mean?”

It was cute to hear Yuuri make that same embarrassed sound he’d made during the call. Viktor tried to pull back to see the expression accompanying it, sure that Yuuri’s recent feeding would have put a blush on his face, but Yuuri was faster and hid his face in Viktor’s neck, refusing to move no matter how sweetly he begged.

In the end, Viktor gave up and rested his chin on top of Yuuri’s head.

“Fine, be that way. But you can’t get out of telling me, Y _uu_ ri.”

A distinct grumble vibrated against the base of his throat.

“Yuuuuuriiiiiiii.”

That was answered with a sigh and then movement as Yuuri shifted enough to free his mouth.

“It’s exactly what it sounds like. Someone’s partner or partners. Marriage is a very human thing. Most Others just use simpler terms.”

“Is that all?” Viktor was skeptical. “Then why are you so embarrassed? Don’t tell you’re shamed of me, Yuuri!”

He didn’t think at that at all but it had the intended effect of coercing Yuuri into leaving his hideout and facing Viktor, albeit with a superbly unimpressed expression on his face.

“I’d hide you away if I could but shame has nothing to do with that and you know it.”

Viktor grinned, unrepentant.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

Ah, there it was, that blush. Faint pink bloomed on Yuuri’s cheek, spreading across the bridge of his nose to paint a lovely flush on his face.

“It’s for life. Usually.”

Oh.

Viktor’s felt his own face warm to match Yuuri’s.

“Really?”

Yuuri looked up at from under dark lashes, meeting Viktor’s gaze for a wondrous instant before sweeping down to rest somewhere on his chest.

“Vampires, we don’t love easy. But once we do, we don’t stop easy either. I won’t lie, it’s a disaster over half the time. Minako’s relationship with her mate is a glorious wreck that’s been on-again, off-again for the better part of two centuries. You may have guessed by now, but we don’t like to let go of what’s ours…even when it’s better that way.”

Viktor took a few seconds to process that. It was interesting information but it didn’t faze him. Being loved by Yuuri until the end of his life was the opposite of a problem.

He tipped Yuuri’s face up, letting his hand rest there.

“I thought that was a Yuuri thing, not a vampire thing. Either way, I don’t mind.”

This, at least, didn’t catch Yuuri by surprise. Viktor would have been very offended if it had.

“I’d love to be your mate, Yuuri. I’d love to be yours.”

Yuuri smiled, wide and with a hint of fang.

“You already are.”

Viktor laughed, delighted, and closed the scant space between them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some days, I wonder if I’m trying to write a more self-aware version of Twilight.
> 
> And in case anyone was wondering, Ketty is the composer chick from the anime except that here, she’s a non-human forger. I guess I’ve turned the whole Detroit crew into supernatural creatures. 
> 
> **The ship mentioned in the beginning notes is Phichit/Celestino.** I won’t lie, I’m fairly apathetic about most ships aside from Yuuri/Viktor and a certain w/w pairing, so any other couples that pop up in my work will be written based on what I feel about them in the context of that particular fic rather than my attitude toward the pairing itself. In Midnight Lover, it’s Phichit and Celestino’s story that popped into my head and refused to leave.
> 
>  _Lapushka_ : darling/sweetheart  
>  _lyubimiy_ : (adjective form of love) beloved
> 
>    
> Credit to the amazing [Kaja](http://sleep-furiously.tumblr.com) for helping me with the Russian <3


	11. there's catastrophe in everything I'm touching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri meets Yuri. It's all fine until it isn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Presenting the one and only Yuri Plisetsky! 
> 
> On a scale of 1 to What the fuck, Yuuri’s internal monologue in this chapter is a solid **What the fucking fuck.** Those of you who saw the snippets I posted on tumblr while editing already kinda know this.
> 
> Warning: A lot of thoughts on murder. Nothing too graphic though.

The rest of Sunday passed in quiet peace. As expected, Viktor was down for the count after the feeding, slipping into a deep sleep while cradled in Yuuri’s arms. Waking him for lunch had been a struggle and only the certainty that Viktor _had_ to eat to compensate for what Yuuri took made him persist until blue eyes peered balefully at him.

In the end though, lunch and dinner were both the cup ramen they kept stocked for when Viktor wasn’t up to cooking and take out wasn’t an option. Yuuri was skeptical about their nutritious content, but his offer to cook eggs again was overturned almost instantly, which was strange since Viktor had seemed to like Saturday’s breakfast. Maybe he just wanted Yuuri close.

His slumbering self clearly felt that way because Yuuri was barely allowed to move an inch without being pulled back into the grasp of a wriggling furnace. He didn’t mind, not at all. Viktor’s heat made his own cool skin feel full of life, and it was always a joy to watch him sleep, angelic and ethereal with his soft face and slack mouth.

Yuuri ran his thumb along the sharp curve of Viktor’s cheekbone, the skin far too pale even with the darkness muting his vision. Several days of rest and food and exercise would put the flush back into his skin, just in time for Yuuri to take it back with hungry teeth.

And Viktor would let him. Viktor would want him.

There were times when Yuuri doubted that; when Viktor smiled wide enough to host stars on his face, when the morning sun lit him up just right, when he made too sweet a noise and leaned too close – Yuuri would look and wonder and think, _Can I ever keep you? How am I enough?_

But Viktor always stayed, didn’t he? Through the abrupt revelation of Yuuri’s nature, through the greater shock of his role among vampires, and even through the impassioned declaration of his all-consuming love. Viktor kept promising and demonstrating, over and over, that he would never leave, patient even when baffled by Yuuri’s doubts.

Yuuri should just believe him, even if Viktor often shone too bright to be contained by the whole of earth, let alone a lone vampire too used to shying away from the light.

And, really, even if Viktor one day changed his mind, it wasn’t like Yuuri could let him go, was it?

“You’ll always be mine, won’t you, Vityenka?” Yuuri asked, shaping the name like a secret. He had yet to say it out loud, too busy waiting for the right moment that never came.

Viktor, snoring lightly and oblivious to all but his dreams, nuzzled closer to Yuuri.

 

* * *

 

Monday dawned and brought with it the very thing that Yuuri had spent two days exorcising from Viktor’s mind.

The specter of Yuri Plisetsky.

It wasn’t obvious immediately despite all the time Yuuri had spent learning Viktor’s tell and quirks, substituting minute observation for innate empathy.

They didn’t leave the bed till well into the morning, Viktor clinging to him with wandering hands and a needy mouth. They did little more than rub against each and trade lazy, open-mouthed kisses. Viktor trembled with the exhaustion still lingering in his veins, right until he trembled for a wholly different reason. Breakfast was by Yuuri’s hand again, Viktor’s previous hesitance vanishing as he stuck to Yuuri like a barnacle and watched him make the only things he was confident he wouldn’t mess up – bread and eggs. Viktor didn’t untwist himself from Yuuri except to season the eggs, and then batted his eyes at Yuuri until he gave in and handfed him again.

He was too damn cute and Yuuri told him as much, pressing kisses along the edges of a heart-shaped smile.

It was only after, as they sprawled on the couch with phones in hand, that Yuuri started to see the signs.

Viktor being restless wasn’t unusual. For all that he usually spent most of his time sleeping, it was common for his waking moments to be filled with some kind of activity, be it sorting through the bookshelf with eager fingers or tracing the shapes of each of Yuuri’s toes with an oddly keen gaze.

Now though, he remained slouched on one end of the couch, his legs in Yuuri’s lap and his eyes staring right through the screen of his smartphone. He was fidgeting, squirming, making little aborted moments that Yuuri kept waiting to turn into a sudden trip to the library or the unrepentant invasion of Yuuri’s space. Nothing of the sort happened, but Viktor’s stare grew blanker.

Yuuri lasted a whole thirty minutes before he abandoned his perusal of a series of links Phichit had sent him – why he thought Yuuri would be interested in the dramatic lives of human celebrities were a mystery, but he was quite certain that it was a gross misuse of their temporarily open channel of communication…not that it stopped him from clicking on every single one. After all, he was the same man who’d stepped into the sunlight in Minako’s absence to check if it really would burn. It had, but it had been considerably less painful than having the sex lives of half the people in Hollywood memorized.

“Vitya,” he called, one hand gently grasping the heel of Viktor’s bare foot. “Are you okay?”

Viktor started so badly that his legs kicked out, one only barely missing Yuuri’s dick in the process. He grabbed the other one as well, just in case, and hoped he hid his short-lived, instinctual terror well.

He failed if the mortification on Viktor’s face was anything to go by.

“Oh god, Yuuri, I’m so sorry!”

Viktor was trying to get up, stopped only by Yuuri keeping his feet captive. He held on to them, sliding his hands up to Viktor’s ankles and then his calves, the slow, crawling touch eliciting a delicious shudder.

“It’s fine,” he assured Viktor, still rubbing his legs. “I know you like my dick too much to intentionally cause harm.”

Or at least, he hoped so. Viktor’s moans and screams and other sex-related noises certainly implied as much.

“I – yes – very much,” Viktor replied, startled laughter and unbridled fondness coloring his voice, effectively squashing any irrational fears that may have sprouted.

Unfortunately, the smile slid off his face all too soon, leaving a faint frown in its place. Since it was Viktor, it only made him go from radiantly gorgeous to pensively gorgeous, but Yuuri still felt compelled to kiss it away.

He released Viktor’s legs and drew his own up, walking on hands and knees to hover over Viktor who stared up at him, frown still in place despite the amused glint in his eyes. Both their phones were forgotten in the folds of the couch.

“You see too much sometimes, my Yuuri,” Viktor whispered, the opposite of dismay in his voice.

“I don’t think you mind,” he replied, leaning down to brush his nose against Viktor’s. “Will you tell me what’s bothering you?”

The answer was apparently a big, fat _No_ because Viktor reached up to throw his arms around Yuuri and pull him down in one smooth movement that drove the breath out of Viktor himself.

Yuuri tried to apologize, a hard task with his face smushed against Viktor’s solid chest as it heaved under him. His one attempt to rise was stopped by Viktor’s hand on the back of his head. He could shake it off but if Viktor really wanted a Yuuri blanket rather than a conversation, the least he could do was indulge him.

Besides, it didn’t really take a genius to guess what was wrong. They’d have to talk about it eventually.

Yuuri allowed himself to relax against Viktor, sinking into his warmth. Fingers carded through his hair, ruffling and tugging the strands gently. Yuuri would sigh if his breathing wasn’t severely impeded.

It felt so good to stop breathing and just bask in the sensations of Viktor’s hands on him. One was massaging his scalp now, the other slipping under Yuuri’s shirt to trace patterns on his skin. It was nice and pleasant, and Yuuri wished that he was capable of sleep. It’d be lovely to drift off while Viktor petted him. He could see why Viktor liked being on the receiving end so much.

Yuuri turned his head to press his ear to Viktor’s chest and listen to the steady thumping of his heart.

Time dulled alongside his senses.

It didn’t last. Yuuri’s phone blared from where it was buried under their tangled legs, rudely drawing Yuuri out of his stupor and making Viktor bite back a curse. Yuuri wanted nothing less than to leave the comfy pillow of Viktor’s body, but the shrill tones only grew louder, faithfully fulfilling its purpose which was to draw Yuuri away from Viktor’s addictive presence and send him off to get ready for work.

The alarm was only a recent necessity. Before Viktor, Yuuri had had nothing tying him to the house.

He pushed himself up, rolling over Viktor and onto the floor with a heavy thud. It was a short fall and he was back on his feet in an instant, one hand out to Viktor to haul him up.

“You should eat,” he said as Viktor rose with groan. Yuuri kissed him, quick and chaste.

“Don’t wanna.”

Viktor wrapped his arms around Yuuri, chasing after his lips and catching them, slipping his tongue inside as an insidious distraction that worked easily because Yuuri was laughably weak. But even all the clever things Viktor could do with his mouth weren’t enough to deafen his ears to the frankly atrocious noise his phone kept making. To be fair, it was chosen with maximum irritation in mind. Viktor was a powerful temptation, a fact which he was currently busy proving.

“Okay, okay,” Yuuri panted when he finally broke the kiss. Viktor mouthed lazily along his cheek when Yuuri turned his head to the side.

It would be only too easy to tilt his neck and let Viktor have his way with him, Ice Castle be damned.

But the thing was that this wasn’t like Viktor, who might pout and grouse but would never seriously try to keep Yuuri from work. And while Yuuri would be quite happy to ditch a job that he didn’t even need in the first place, he knew better than to think that Viktor’s sudden clinginess had to do with anything other than this being Yuuri’s first time leaving him after Plisetsky came to town.

Yuuri fisted a hand in Viktor’s hair, tightening it the way he liked, and pulled.

Viktor’s mouth detached from his jaw with a gasp, his throat stretched taut as Yuuri held his head tilted back. Viktor gazed at him through heavy lids, eyes dark and mouth red, a vision that would tempt gods.

“I don’t really appreciate that you’re thinking of another man while kissing me, Vitya.”

Surprise flashed across Viktor’s face.

“I’m not – how I could I ever think of anyone but you, Yuuri.”

They were pretty words, made all the more genuine by the hoarseness cracking Viktor’s voice.

“But you’re doing this because of him, yes? Talk to me, Vitya. Making me stay won’t solve everything.”

If ditching work and staying glued to Viktor would make Plisetsky go away, Yuuri would do it in a heartbeat. But his sudden disappearance would likely only draw attention to himself.

He let go of Viktor’s hair, soothing the sting with massaging motions. Viktor sighed at the touch. The frown on his face grew more pronounced.

“I know,” Viktor whispered after a long pause. His eyes closed, head dropping to rest against Yuuri’s shoulder. “But I still don’t want you to leave. I don’t want to be alone here, waiting for a knock that’s not yours. I’m sorry.”

“Sweetheart, don’t be.” Yuuri kissed the side of Viktor’s head. “I understand. I don’t want to leave you here either. I’d take you with me, just to have you in my sight, but you know, don’t you, that Plisetsky will most likely be at the rink? He’s booked the place. I don’t know how long, but I imagine he intends to practice while he looks for you. It’s not safe.”

Viktor, who’d been getting tenser by the moment, now stood rigid against Yuuri. His breaths were harsh and fast, enough so that Yuuri feared for a moment that he was panicking, but then Viktor raised his head and the look on his face made Yuuri’s chest clench.

His eyes, so beautiful and bright, were narrowed in pain. Fear lurked in their depths, echoed in the grim slant of his mouth.

“Oh, Vitya.”

He took Viktor’s face in both hands, helpless to do anything but hold him. Viktor’s own came to circle his wrists, gripping a little too tight. His head bowed, a sharp, wet breath escaping him.

Yuuri brushed frantic kisses into the silver crown of his head, nosing into the soft strands and wishing he could give more than words.

He’d thought, more than once, about doing away with the boy.

But Viktor cared for him, might even love him, and Yuuri, for all that he detested Yuri Plisetsky and everything he represented, did not want to hurt Viktor with his good intentions.

It was honestly strange to put another’s wishes above his own, but he’d never been in love before. Some sacrifices were worth it.

“It’ll be fine,” Yuuri said with a conviction he didn’t quite feel. Maybe he had also been trying to take his own mind off Plisetsky this weekend. “No one here knows you as Viktor. Even if someone remembers you from back before you came to me, it’s been months. Plisetsky would probably just stick around for a few days and then leave. Everything will work out, Vitya.”

The shadows haunting Viktor didn’t conveniently disappear at Yuuri’s words. But he did nod, puckering his mouth for a kiss that Yuuri was all too glad to deliver.

It wasn’t enough of a comfort and Viktor’s expression was still too tight when Yuuri pulled back. He hated it, wanted it _gone_ with a vehemence that left him staggering.

Viktor had once asked him if he were playing human for him. All Yuuri could think as he breathed in the scent of his beloved’s distress and tried not to plot a teenager’s death was that he hadn’t been playing, had never been playing, because only Viktor drew out this part of him; this soft, confused, infinitely precious part that was more real than anything he’d ever felt.

“ _Aishiteru yo_ , Vityenka.”

The words slipped out on their own, the Japanese falling naturally from his lips, imbued with a depth that its English counterpart couldn’t quite capture. He didn’t expect Viktor to react as he did; frown dissolving, eyes widening, breath quickening, a smile that shone brighter than a million suns breaking across his face.

“ _Ya ne mogu zhit bez tebya,_ ” Viktor murmured breathlessly, the unfamiliar sounds reverberant with a meaning that pierced deep into Yuuri, echoing in that place where there were no words, only feeling.

 

* * *

 

Between staying to see that Viktor didn’t skip lunch and lingering kisses at the door, Yuuri was inevitably late.

Yuuko was watching the rink and the lone figure on it, naked admiration etched on everything from the tilt of her mouth to the clench of her fists. Yuuri had been there to see Yuuko transform from fangirl to businesswoman when Plisetsky first showed up, but it was also clear that professionalism was no barrier to her excitement. He wasn’t surprised, not when she had once been enthusiastic enough about her favorite skater to shower her new employee with video after video.

It wasn’t often that Yuuri remembered to be thankful for that.

“He’s booked the rink indefinitely,” Yuuko told him, still staring so intently at Plisetsky that Yuuri was surprised she noticed him join her. “The classes in the morning still happen of course. But for the rest of the time, the ice is all his. He’s paying on a weekly basis.”

The word ‘indefinitely’ made something hard and brittle lodge in Yuuri’s gut, twisting unpleasantly.

“I see. Must be good for business, what with his fame.”

“Oh, no, no one knows he’s here and he told us to keep it that way. Politely too! You know, he’s never polite to the press, but he treats his fans nicely enough. Anyway, it’s a reasonable request so I’m not about to go announcing it. I had to confiscate the girls’ phone though.”

He could imagine. His encounters with the Nishigori triplets had been few and brief, but he had seen enough to know that they effortlessly eclipsed their mother’s fervor for figure skating and were thrice as tenacious.

“I still can’t believe it sometimes,” Yuuko said again, finally tearing her eyes off the boy to look at Yuuri. He kept his expression neutral. “First Christophe Giacometti and now _Yuri Plisetsky_. At this point, I wouldn’t be shocked if it turns out that Viktor Nikiforov had indeed been here, and my brain just erased the memories to protect me from dying of nosebleeds.”

He ignored that last bit, thought about anything but Viktor’s warm hands in his as they skated lazy circles on the ice, and focused on the information that could be useful later on.

“Who’s Christophe Giacometti?”

“ _Who_ – ah sorry, I forget you don’t really keep up with this. He’s a Swiss skater. He was the oldest in the sport after Viktor retired. He retired too after this year’s Olympics. He medaled though! Bronze.”

“And he was here?”

“Yeah, a couple of years ago. He stayed at Yu-topia, came because of it too. Aoi – that’s the Katsukis’ kid – did a lot of online campaigning for Hasetsu around that time. I think Chris noticed this place because of that. He stayed for around a week.”

“You think Plisetsky is also here because of Aoi-san’s efforts?”

“I don’t know… they moved to Australia a while back. Maybe Chris told him.”

Yuuri hummed noncommittally. He absently watched Plisetsky, not noticing more than a shock of bright hair and fast movements. It would have been nice if he was truly here because of this Christophe, but his questions about Viktor on his first day solidly put that notion to rest.

Come to think of it, hadn’t Viktor once mentioned an old friend recommending Hasetsu to him at the Olympics?

Yuuri had to ask him about that later tonight.

“Why did he ask for Vit – Viktor Nikiforov last Friday?”

“He’s still asking actually. He seems to think that Viktor is here in Hasetsu. Or at least that he used to be. I guess the ice rink was where he asked first for obvious reasons. Can you imagine it, Yuuri-san? Viktor _here_.”

Ah, if only Yuuko knew. But no, she could never know. That was the point.

“Yes, what a strange idea. He’s looking for him then?”

Yuuko nodded, having returned to watching Plisetsky. But instead of the previous hearts-in-eyes expression, she now sported one of grim concern.

“Mm. No one knows where Viktor is, you know. His old coach and rinkmates all say he’s fine, but his social media accounts have all been inactive for months. Everyone’s concerned. And if his own pupil is all the way out here looking for him, then maybe…”

Yuuri slowly unclenched his hands. Nails slid out from skin, the incisions they left behind closing swiftly. He’d have to wipe the blood off somewhere.

“I have faith he’ll be fine though! He has to be. And not wanting to raise panic is part of why Yuri – Russian Yuri that is – asked us not to say anything about his presence here. You won’t, will you, Yuuri-san?”

Faced with Yuuko’s earnest gaze, Yuuri could do little but wonder if their acquaintance was enough for her to trust him with all this. No matter. In this, their interests aligned perfectly, though for wildly divergent reasons.

“Of course, Yuuko-san,” he assured her, forcing his mouth into a curve. “I won’t tell anyone. I was just curious why an Olympic athlete is here in little Hasetsu.”

Yuuko beamed, showering Yuuri with the slightly unsettling force of her approval. He took a tiny step back.

“He’s probably also vacationing. He worked very hard this year. Anyway, I should go now. See you tomorrow, Yuuri-san.”

Yuuko patted him on the shoulder and stepped away from the glass, heading for the door with obvious reluctance. Yuuri waited until he heard her leave before turning his gaze to Plisetsky, properly looking this time.

Yuuri had spent hours poring over Viktor’s videos, often muting the sound to drown in the hypnotic spell woven by his movements. He knew little of figure skating, but he knew Viktor moved like the fae with ice under his feet, all supple grace and glittering beauty.

Now, he could see some of that in Plisetsky. It was fundamentally different from the way Viktor had skated, sharper and harder, but there were similarities in the way they way both spun a story with each flick and twitch of lithe limbs.

Where watching Viktor had roused in Yuuri distant appreciation and then ravenous wonder, Plisetsky left him simmering with the need to crush his willowy form against the very ice he inhabited.

He could do it easily. Plisetsky was only human.

But then he remembered Viktor, nervous but trusting as he saw Yuuri off, jokingly telling him not to scare _Yura_ too much without knowing the bloody urges that lurked in Yuuri’s mind.

Viktor cared for Plisetsky. Maybe the boy cared as well since he was here looking for his lost mentor.

But neither Plisetsky nor the other humans back in Russia had helped Viktor as he slowly broke down into a shell of a person. Viktor had chosen to run from them, just like he had chosen to stay with Yuuri. They didn’t deserve him, and they sure as hell couldn’t have him.

Viktor was _his_.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri just watched, stewing in his own chaotic thoughts, for a good hour before he worked up the nerve to head to rinkside.

It may have been irrational because, as he’d assured Viktor, no one knew the truth about Yuuri’s lover. But Plisetsky’s presence still put him on edge, and his mind kept insisting that the best way to solve the problem was to get rid of him in any way possible. Knowing that Yuuri’s best solution would upset Viktor didn’t quite silence the part of him that kept whispering that it was better to beg forgiveness rather than ask permission.

It was possible that actually approaching Plisetsky wasn’t the best way to go about it but fretting alone had been unproductive so far.

Plisetsky was mid-jump when he noticed Yuuri but he didn’t falter, sticking the landing with a graceful flourish. He was dressed in drab practice clothes but his flair was better suited to crowded rinks and flashy costumes. His hair, golden and unbound, flew and fluttered with each fierce step, miraculously not tangling or getting into his eyes.

There was no doubt that Yuri Plisetsky was beautiful on the ice. He just didn’t hold a candle to Viktor.

“Hello,” Yuuri greeted when the boy just glowered at him from the middle of the rink, making no move to approach but also not resuming his practice.

“Who the hell are you?”

So charming. Viktor had called it _fire_ but several less flattering terms popped into Yuuri’s mind.

“I work here. You’ve met me, actually.”

Plisetsky squinted at him, finally deigning to skate over. Yuuri questioned the wisdom of being closer to Plisetsky but remained in place all the same. Plisetsky came to a stop in a shower of ice, elbows slamming down on the barrier with a dull thud as he leaned on them. It put his face uncomfortably close to Yuuri’s, not for the first time.

He leaned back, idly running his tongue along his teeth.

“Oh,” Plisetsky said after a pause. “You’re the guy in the front. I haven’t seen you after Friday.”

“I had the weekend off.”

“Heh.”

Yuuri waited for Plisetsky to either return to skating or tell Yuuri off for watching but instead, he kept standing there, hunched over the rink barrier and glaring at Yuuri.

This was awkward.

Yuuri took an instinctual sniff. Plisetsky smelled fairly good, better than Daiki though nowhere near as good as Viktor. To be fair, no one was as good as Viktor, but if the worst happened, Plisetsky would make a nice meal.

“You don’t follow skating,” Plisetsky stated, breaking the tense silence. This wasn’t the kind of conversation Yuuri had expected to have with this guy but he hadn’t had any concrete ideas anyway.

“Not really. That’s Yuuko-san’s thing.” He should have ended it there, but the same part of Yuuri that compelled him to follow suspicious scents into dark alleys and save handsome men from drowning spurred him on. “But I do know of Viktor Nikiforov, in case you were wondering.”

Yuuri had to bite back a smile when Plisetsky’s face twisted into an expression of acute rage. It was fascinating how something so pretty could turn ugly so fast. Plisetsky cursed under his breath, some of it familiar to Yuuri. He heard Viktor’s name in the heated torrent, in between words that sounded far from pleasant.

“You are sure he hasn’t been here?” Plisetsky asked, the English thick with his accent after the swearing.

Yuuri shrugged, shifting in place.

“I only work in the afternoons so I hardly know everyone who comes and goes. But no, he hasn’t been along while I was working. I’d remember. Why do you think he’s here anyway? Hastesu is hardly the prime location to look for famous figure skaters.”

“What the fuck do you care?” Plisetsky snarled. Yuuri could practically see his hackles rising. It was actually a little amusing, but he managed to keep a straight face.

“I don’t,” he lied, throwing in a shrug for good measure. “It’s just odd. Don’t worry though, Yuuko told me not to tell anyone.”

It may have been his imagination but it seemed like Plisetsky relaxed a fraction at that. Yuuri couldn’t just leave it there. If he couldn’t kill Plisetsky, then he had to ensure that he caused as little trouble as possible.

“But you know, if you don’t want anyone to know you’re looking for Nikiforov, maybe don’t go around screaming it in people’s faces.”

This time, Plisetsky actually turned red but it was hard to tell whether it was out of anger or embarrassment. Yuuri expected yelling or at least insults and was surprised to get a curt nod instead. Plisetsky skated away before anything more could be said.

Well then.

Yuuri watched Plisetsky fold himself into a spin, blades scraping the ice brutally, and left the rink before the boy rose from it.

 

* * *

 

The rest of his work hours were spent on his phone, Viktor’s name in the search tags. For once, it was not videos he was after but news. There was plenty of it, posts upon posts speculating about Viktor Nikiforov’s unprecedented radio silence and Yuri Plisetsky’s return to his old coach Yakov Feltsman.

It was both irritating and entertaining to see random people attempt to figure out why Viktor had left. Nothing Yuuri saw ever came close to the truth, maybe because the Viktor they all kept referring to seemed like a stranger rather than his Vitya.

Some of the more outlandish theories were…interesting to say the least. He was sure that the person who wrote a thousand word article on the possibility of alien abduction was only joking.

Well, mostly sure.

In the end, he returned home with a lighter heart than he’d had in the morning, though the fear that Plisetsky would find something he shouldn’t was never far from his mind. He didn’t think that would go away until Plisetsky himself was gone from Hasetsu.

He found Viktor in the living room, pacing in front of the couch. Usually, Yuuri came home to find him asleep. On the rare occasions otherwise, he’d either be reading or cooking. This was new, the cause obvious.

It was testament to Viktor’s distraction that he didn’t even hear Yuuri arrive until he caught him mid-pace and pulled him into an embrace. Viktor’s gasp was lost somewhere in Yuuri’s hair but his arms came around him almost instantly, locking so tight that Yuuri feared Viktor would hurt himself.

“How was it? Did you see – was he there?” Viktor asked without letting go. His accent was thicker than usual. Must be the stress.

“Yes. But it’s okay. He doesn’t know anything.”

 _Yet_ , he didn’t say but maybe Viktor heard it anyway.

“Did you have dinner?”

Viktor mumbled an affirmative, nestling further against Yuuri who appreciated Viktor’s sudden quest to fuse them together but gently pried him off anyway, needing to see his face. Viktor looked better than he had in the morning but the tightness around his eyes was still very much there. Yuuri ran a finger along the faint shadows under his eyes.

“He moves a little like you used to.”

It would be pointless to ignore the topic of Yuri Plisetsky when Viktor was in this state. They might as well deal with it.

“Yes,” Viktor replied, a faint smile appearing. “I inspired him, I think. He’d never say it out loud though.”

Yuuri couldn’t really imagine that either and he barely knew Plisetsky. He walked Viktor back until his knees hit the couch and buckled. Yuuri followed him down, sitting as close as possible without climbing into Viktor’s lap. His hands were immediately seized and held, Viktor’s warmer, longer ones covering them almost entirely.

“I talked to Yuuko. She said a Swiss skater named Christophe Giacometti was here two years ago and that he might have recommended Hasetsu to Plisetsky.” Viktor’s eyes widened, and Yuuri knew the answer to his next question without having to ask. “He was the one who mentioned it you as well, wasn’t he?”

Viktor nodded, mouth pressed into a thin line.

“Yes. I didn’t pay much attention at the time but it was the first place that came to mind when I wanted out of Russia. A relatively unknown location in another continent was so appealing. Now that I think about, and I’m not so sure, but…maybe Yuri was there with me at that time.”

“And if he already knew you were in Japan…?”

“Then it’s not a stretch to assume I acted on Chris’s recommendation. _Der'mo._ I should never have told them anything. I thought–”

“Ssh, Vitya, don’t – you shouldn’t blame this on yourself. I would have liked it better if no one ever knew where you are, but I’m also the same man who sometimes wants to lock you in a room and stand guard outside the door so. Well. Anyway, it was sensible that you told people you were in Japan. I imagine they’d have kicked up a fuss much earlier if they thought you were missing. Your fanbase already is.”

Viktor, who’d been smiling happily since Yuuri mentioned locking him up, sobered quickly at the reference to the media storm.

“Oh, you found out about that. I was hoping you wouldn’t, it’s so unpleasant. And I’m worried – if any press follows Yura here, then…”

In this at least, Yuuri could reassure Viktor with a measure of certainty. There was palpable relief on Viktor’s face when he told him about Plisetsky’s attempt to be circumspect in his search.

“He’s not really the most discreet person though,” Viktor mused, index finger tapping against his lips. Yuuri noticed that the nail was shorter than usual and bore the distinct mark of being bitten down. A coil of unease wound its way into him at the thought of Viktor having spent all day here, alone and worried.

If only he could take the week off. Or quit the job altogether.

Or better yet, take Viktor and _leave_.

“Don’t worry,” Yuuri told him, smiling to hide that he couldn’t quite take his own advice. “We’re going to be together no matter what, Vitya. Phichit already said Ketty’s working on those papers. If there’s no other choice, then we can–”

“–leave,” Viktor finished, sounding not too happy about that prospect. “I wish it won’t come to that. I love it here with you. I love you.”

That was so unexpected that Yuuri sputtered, the response he’d been forming scattering in his mind. He knew Viktor loved him, had heard him say it with no room for ambiguity, but he didn’t think the sheer novelty of hearing it would die any time soon. He didn’t want it to.

“Y–you too! I love you too.”

It wasn’t the smoothest reciprocation but the smile on Viktor’s face, small and sly, said that he was thoroughly enjoying catching Yuuri off guard and well, it was hard to be put off by anything that made Viktor happy.

That didn’t stop Yuuri from trying to hide his burning cheeks by leaning in to kiss Viktor, tipping them both onto the couch as he did. Viktor’s mouth was hot and wet and as receptive as always, sliding against Yuuri’s with a smile he could feel. They were giggling when they parted, Viktor alight with a flush that Yuuri knew was mirrored on him, albeit less attractively.

Viktor was too beautiful to ever be matched, the brightest star in all galaxies.

The pink on his face flared into full, flaming red, making the blue of his eyes shine even brighter.

“Yuuuuri! You can’t just say things like that! Think of my poor heart.”

Oh, did he accidentally speak out loud again?

“You are though,” Yuuri insisted, no amount of embarrassment enough to stop him from telling Viktor how wonderful he was. He’d carve it into his forehead if he could. Viktor’s forehead had more space though…but it’d hurt him. And it wouldn’t heal. And he didn’t really look at the mirror as often as he looked at Yuuri. Yuuri’s forehead it was. It would make an excellent birthday present, or even an anniversary gift. Wasn’t there that one vampire who’d carved her mate’s name all over her body to celebrate their first centenary? Yuuri could do that. Would Viktor like it?

“–ri. Yuuri. Y _uu_ ri!” A finger poked at his cheek, interrupting Yuuri in the middle of recalling all the witches he’d heard of who could delay a vampire’s healing. Viktor was glaring at him reproachfully, looking lovely as he did. “You can’t compliment me and then zone out while I try to do the same.”

Honestly, this man was too cute. Yuuri’s barely beating heart skipped a beat. Or three.

He kissed the finger still digging into his cheek, nibbling at the tip in a way that made Viktor groan. He drew it into his mouth, teasingly tracing his tongue along the soft flesh.

He could feel something hard spring to life against his leg.

“How am I this easy for you?” Viktor bemoaned, or tried to. There wasn’t any actual displeasure in his voice.

“As long as it’s just for me,” Yuuri answered, the words slightly mangled by the finger still in his mouth. He reluctantly released it and leaned down so his lips were hovering a mere inch over Viktor’s. “My Vityenka.”

Viktor made a sound that could only be called tortured and covered his face, almost throwing Yuuri into the floor as the gesture unbalanced him. He managed to cling on, legs clamping around Viktor.

Viktor said something in Russian, the heels of his palms still pressed to his mouth and muffling it beyond any coherence. A lone blue eye peeked out from between pale fingers. Yuuri stared on, bemused and besotted.

“Why–” Viktor managed to say after a long string in incomprehensible Russian. “How you – you called me Vityenka! In the morning too!”

“I – yes? Um, I looked it up. And there were a lot. Russian names are very interesting. I, uh, liked this one a lot. It sounds like Vitya and you like it when I call you that so I just – _mmph_!”

He was pulled into a frenzied kiss, Viktor rearing up and almost sending them toppling to the floor as he attempted with remarkable success to melt Yuuri’s brain with his teeth and tongue. By the time he pulled back, Viktor heaving for breath, Yuuri had something down below to match Viktor.

“I changed my mind,” Viktor breathed, pupils blown and mouth bleeding. “I’m willing to run off to fucking Antarctica if it means staying with you. Now, kiss me.”

Yuuri did, gladly.

In the end, they did fall off the couch.

 

* * *

 

In the days that followed, Yuuri seriously doubted there being even a grain of truth to Yuuko’s assumption that Plisetsky was on vacation. He was at the rink every single day. Yuuri had initially thought that the indefinite booking was just a contingency for having the ice to himself when he felt the need to skate; excessive but not unreasonable if Plisetsky was serious about keeping his presence here a secret.

Instead, the reality was that Plisetsky was at the rink from the moment Yuuko’s classes ended to closing hours when Yuuri waved him off the ice.

Oddly enough, it was fascinating to watch him on the ice, jumping and spinning and twirling with an ease that didn’t hint he was essentially moving on less than an inch of sharp steel. It mostly made Yuuri wish he could watch Viktor do the same in person right until he remembered the way he had glowed with happiness while gliding clumsily hand in hand Yuuri, at which point he only wanted Plisetsky to go away so that he could bring Viktor here on another date.

Still, he was used to coming in for his shift and finding Plisetsky dominating the ice.

That was why one Saturday evening found Yuuri gaping at the empty rink.

His first thought – hope – was that Plisetsky had given up and returned home. That was one news he’d he happy to deliver to Viktor who had lost the haunted look in his eyes but had also stopped talking about Plisetsky or even leaving the house except on morning runs that were once again confined to the lonely stretch of beach near their house.

But that was all optimism with little justification. For all he knew, Plisetsky was out looking for Viktor in the nooks and crannies of Hasetsu.

He firmly pushed that thought to the back of his mind and put on his own skates, intent on taking advantage of the free rink.

Plisetsky returned over an hour later. Yuuri smelled him before he saw him but went through with the sit spin he was attempting, made possible by a lot of careful study of Viktor’s videos and a callous disregard of injuries that only those who healed instantly could have. So what if he nearly busted his head open once or twice and had to clean blood off the ice more times that he could count? No one was any the wiser and he could show off for Viktor the next time they came here.

He managed to rise out of the spin without stumbling and almost rammed into Plisetsky who was far too close for comfort. Yuuri didn’t know whether to be impressed or disconcerted that Plisetsky had made it all the way to the center of the rink so fast.

“Uh…”

“Are you a skater?”

“No? I’m not that interested in it. I just mess around sometimes.”

That seemed to anger Plisetsky. He raised himself to his full height, standing taller than Yuuri by about two inches. It was about as intimidating as watching a kitten bare its claws.

Yuuri smiled in spite of himself.

“You don’t move like you just mess around,” Plisetsky bit out, the tone so aggressive that it took Yuuri a moment to figure out it was actually a compliment.

“Thank you?”

“Whatever. Can you do jumps?”

Yuuri tried not to grimace as he remembered the first time he’d tried. He’d barely avoided breaking a leg. The sprained ankle had healed by the time he had to return home, saving him from Viktor’s questions. It hadn’t stopped him from trying again, but with less and less success. He’d stopped before he accidentally cracked the ice.

He’d stick to spins, thank you.

“No, not at all.”

“…I’ll teach you.”

It wasn’t phrased as a question but Plisetsky seemed to want an answer. Yuuri could only give him an open-mouthed stare.

“Excu – _what_?”

Plisetsky’s scowl deepened. Yuuri was starting to suspect that the perpetual irritation was either a front or _very_ multi-faceted.

“You move well. Like, really well. Almost like a skater should. I want to see how you can jump.”

“And I’m just…supposed to be happy you want to teach me and play along?”

Plisetsky dropped his scowl, surprise flashing in its place. His lips quirked in what might be an actual smile.

“Of course you are, I’m an Olympic gold medalist. And who wouldn’t want to do cool jumps on the ice?”

Well, he had a point there.

“Just – if you want, I could show you singles. They’re easy. Kind of.”

Yuuri stared at Plisetsky, now squirming in front of him while valiantly holding on to a frown. He seemed almost a different person than the rude, crude brat Yuuri had become somewhat accustomed to, not that the rudeness or crudeness or brattiness weren’t still there. It just seemed that there was something beyond that to Yuri Plisetsky. Viktor had certainly implied as much before he completely clammed up on the matter.

He weighed the cons of falling on his ass or more delicate places in front of Plisetsky with the pros of being able to do even a simple jump for Viktor.

He considered the possibility of getting more information from Plisetsky.

He nodded.

Plisetsky’s answering smile was shockingly sweet.

 

* * *

 

More days passed. Yuuri started each one hoping that Yuri would announce his imminent departure and ended them disappointed.

Yuri kept coming to Ice Castle but the fervor of that first week appeared to have died down since he spent as much of his time teaching Yuuri how to jump and move his feet in intricate patterns as practicing his own routine. He was sometimes late, coming in well after Yuuri’s shift had started with frown firmly in place. Some days, he didn’t come at all. Yuuri had asked one day and the answer he received, that Yuri was looking for Viktor with as much discretion as he was capable of, had only confirmed his fears.

Viktor himself was dead set on ignoring the problem until it went back to Russia. He no longer asked Yuuri about his job. His phone lay abandoned in the bedside table, battery down and left that way. He wrote lists for what Yuuri should get from the convenience store. He slept most of his time away and clung to Yuuri when he was awake. It wasn’t ideal but it was functional, and Yuuri was content to leave him be, at least until Yuri returned home.

They could figure things out once this live threat of a teenage boy wasn’t hanging over them.

Meanwhile, Yuuri somehow kept forgetting to bring up his own solution. Death, he was sure, was out of the question and Yuri dying or vanishing in Hasetsu was only going to bring them more trouble. A little mind fuckery, on the other hand, would help them and leave Yuri mostly unharmed. But for some reason, telling Viktor that he could bite his ex-pupil and mess with his memories was hard for more reasons than just Viktor’s ardent avoidance of the matter.

He’d wait a little more. Another week, maybe.

He hoped Yuri would leave before that because that was not a conversation he was eager to have.

“Oi, what the fuck’s wrong with you today? Your head’s in the clouds.”

Ah, he’d miss the yelling though. Except not.

“I think you answered you own question,” Yuuri said mildly, finally giving up on the step sequence he’d been attempting. They were harder than they looked but also very fun to emulate. But today, his mind was more on the man waiting for him back home than the movement of his skates.

Yuuri slid to a corner of the rink, leaning against the barrier and gesturing for Yuri to take the ice. He did so with a glare and a huff, launching into what Yuuri had grown to recognize as the bare bones of his choreography for next season. It was his own, Yuri had told him one afternoon, burning green eyes daring Yuuri to comment. He had but only to truthfully say it was an admirable goal. That had earned him a scowl slightly smaller than usual accompanied by a peculiar seizing of facial muscles that Yuuri had eventually realized was Yuri’s attempt at suppressing a pleased smile.

He was learning a lot of things about Yuri. He didn’t know how to feel about that.

Several feet away from Yuuri, Yuri was leaping into a quadruple jump, arms pressed close to his chest as he twirled in the air. He didn’t land it.

Yuuri didn’t move as swiftly as he could, always aware in the back of his mind that he had to be careful around humans, but he did skate faster than he usually allowed himself to, skidding to a stop beside Yuri’s prone form. No sooner than Yuuri leaned down did the boy push himself up with his hands, the ever-ready torrent of Russian curses falling from gritted lips.

Yuuri didn’t help him up. He wouldn’t put it past Yuri to actually bite off his hands in such a mood.

“Looks like I’m not the only one distracted today,” he said, rising along with Yuri. He’d said it quietly enough that Yuri could have pretended to ignore it, but of course, he did the exact opposite.

“Fuck you, Katsuki.”

“You’re too young for me,” Yuuri parried without quite thinking it through, flinching back when Yuri turned a very unflattering shade of red.

At least the sputtering was entertaining.

“Maybe you should take a break,” he said after a solid minute spent listening to some very creative combinations involving his name. He was glad he didn’t have much attachment to the parents he couldn’t remember.

Yuri glared at him, mouth opening to deliver what was undoubtedly another line of scathing comments, but Yuuri spoke before he could.

“Or you could keep skating. I’ll just go man the reception like I should.”

That actually shut him up. Yuuri studied Yuri’s sulking and considered asking the questions that he had to bite back every day for fear of his own limited capacity for subtlety.

“How old are you anyway?” Yuri snapped suddenly, cutting off Yuuri’s internal rephrasing of a very simple query.

“Uh…25.”

Yuri raised a skeptical eyebrow, deliberately dragging his gaze up and down Yuuri.

“You don’t look it.”

“Are you saying I look old?”

“No, idiot, I’m saying you look too young.”

Yuuri shrugged. He knew this. He’d been hearing variations of the same for over four hundred years after all. He had no recollection of his exact physical age either, but Minako had told him it was twenty-five, and he had no reason to doubt her.

“Guess I have good genes.”

Yuri harrumphed, skating away. Yuuri thought he heard something like _that’s not too old for me_ but he was going to think of it as faulty hearing. Even vampire senses couldn’t be perfect.

Right?

“How’s your search going?” Yuuri called across the rink, grimacing the moment the words left his mouth because there went all the careful phrasing and hours of fretting about being too obvious. What on earth had prompted Viktor to think for even a moment that Yuuri was a secret agent?

To his surprise, Yuri didn’t shout or say it was none of Yuuri’s business. Instead he circled back to Yuuri, the frown on his face more thoughtful than was typical.

“I found something,” he told Yuuri who froze colder than the ice at his feet.

“The hotel he was staying at,” Yuri continued, gaze set on some distant point in the rink and not on Yuuri. “It was some dump. Not Viktor’s style at all. They said he just showed up and took a room. He kept it for a couple of weeks and then checked out.”

Yuuri didn’t relax entirely but he forced himself to let out the breath he’d been holding. Yuri was still looking away, lost in his own world, but it wouldn’t do if he saw Yuuri react so badly to this news.

Now Yuri knew that Viktor had definitely been in Hasetsu. That wasn’t good. But if he’d only found Viktor’s old hotel, then there wasn’t much danger. He couldn’t possibly talk to every single person in Hasetsu to find the handful that must have seen Viktor before he started wearing the wig. Surely that wasn’t possible.

He needed this boy to _leave_.

“So he’s left then?” Yuuri asked, taking care that his voice wouldn’t tremble or threaten. Yuri jerked a little, blinking as if he’d forgotten Yuuri was there.

“Oh, uh, I don’t – I’m not sure. I mean, the time he was in that hotel matches the time he went to the hot spring. It was early on in his stay though. There’s no news of him after that. It’s…he could have left.” Yuri’s face grew darker, confusion turning into fury. “But it’s not like I have any other lead on that shithead. I just know he’s still in Japan. I can’t believe–”

 _Please don’t call my mate a shithead_ , Yuuri wanted to say. He took out a page of Viktor’s book and made himself smile.

“There’s more to Japan than Hasetsu, Yuri.”

“I know. Damn it all, I know. But I just have this feeling. I’m missing something, I know it.”

Yuuri had a deep running respect for instinct except for when it actively made things hard for him. And Yuri’s _feeling_ was a little more concerning than a tasty looking human refusing to approach him because of a keen sense of self-preservation.

But Yuri was talking to him and apparently saw nothing wrong with Yuuri questioning him. He could try and push it a little.

“If you have contact with him and know he’s in this country, then why are you so worried?”

Yuri’s nostrils flared, eyes sharpening as they bored into Yuuri.

He’d pushed too far.

“That’s none of your business, Katsuki. Now fuck off, I need to get this jump down.”

With that charming farewell, Yuri stormed off, leaving Yuuri to ponder his words with a heaviness in his heart.

 

* * *

 

Viktor’s only reaction to the news was grim resignation. It was a far cry from the sheer panic he’d exhibited when Yuuri first unthinkingly blurted out that Yuri was in Hasetsu.

“I’ve had time to get used to it,” Viktor told him when pressed. “And I expected something like this. I know exactly how stubborn Yura can be. It’s not like I was actively attempting to hide my trail when I came here. And someone like me will stand out in this place. It’s fine as long as he doesn’t figure out I’m with you.”

Yuuri had automatically assured him that Yuri wouldn’t get that far and that they’d manage even then, but it was cold comfort even to himself.

Viktor wasn’t the only one reluctant to leave Hasetsu. Yuuri wasn’t one to put down roots but there was something about being holed up in this little town with his human that was strangely appealing. He knew that he’d have to leave and that Viktor would be with him, but he didn’t want that moment to be forced on them because of one tenacious kid’s efforts.

But Viktor had a point, and they were safe unless Yuri connected ‘Anthony’ to Viktor.

He couldn’t relax like Viktor was attempting to though, especially not when he still hadn’t managed to propose his idea to Viktor.

Of course, since life liked to hate on Yuuri, he went to work exactly eighteen days after Yuri had arrived in Hasetsu to find a mob in front of Ice Castle.

There were microphones, and cameras, and press badges, and young women wearing cat ears.

Yuuko and the triplets stood before them all, gesturing and talking. Yuri stood behind them, fuming.

Yuuri did the smart thing and snuck in through the back door. He didn’t even go to the front. He could all too easily imagine what was happening. Someone had realized Yuri was here. How or when, he didn’t know, and he didn’t care. The damage was done.

He texted Viktor, not wanting to tell him something that was sure to be upsetting when he wasn’t there to comfort him and draw comfort in return, but also not willing to leave Viktor unaware of this new complication.

There was no response for several minutes. Either Viktor was asleep or he was still ignoring his phone.

Yuuri had barely put it away, a growl trapped in his throat, when Yuri barreled inside, mouth open in a feral snarl. He stopped short at the sight of Yuuri. The two of them stared at each other, Yuuri forcing his expression into some semblance of calm as Yuri also did the same but with added annoyance.

“When did you get here?” Yuri asked quietly. It was disconcerting to hear.

“Just now. Saw the mess out front.”

The cacophony outside was still audible. Yuuko’s voice occasionally rose above the din.

“Shouldn’t you go help her?”

“I don’t like crowds. And Yuuko’s someone who has years of experience handling those three hellions who’re out there with her. You think she needs any help?”

Yuri conceded the point with a nod, smirking lightly.

Yuuri expected him to head to the rink and skate but instead, he sat down on one of the benches, elbows braced on knees as he cradled his head in his hands.

“They found you,” Yuuri said when Yuri showed no signs of moving. It was hard to keep an accusatory note out of his voice, and he didn’t really manage, but Yuri either didn’t notice or pretended he didn’t.

“ _Da_. Someone recognized me, snapped a picture, posted on social media. Now we have this shitstorm. Apparently, people are as invested in my whereabouts as Viktor’s. Maybe because of his vanishing act.”

“Don’t your people know you’re here though?”

Yuri’s grimace was all the answer he needed. Yuuri had to fight off the urge to slam his head hard against the nearest wall.

Were all Russians this reckless or was it a skater thing?

“They know now,” Yuuri stated, just for the pleasure of seeing that grimace widen.

The lapsed to thick, strained silence. Yuuri kept his eyes on Yuri, doing his best to drown out the muffled noise of the mob.

“Aren’t you going to skate?” he asked when Yuri showed no signs of moving.

“Not in the mood.”

“Then go back.”

“I _can’t_ ,” he snapped, raising his head to glare at Yuuri. “This is already a disaster. I can’t have them know where I’m staying and hound me there.”

Yuuri almost said that Yu-topia would appreciate the business but antagonizing Yuri would do him no favor and besides, it was in Viktor’s – and by extension Yuuri’s – best interests if the public attention on Yuri was as minimal as possible.

And that was the only thing that prompted him to say what he did.

“Once most of them are gone, I’ll sneak you out. I know a shortcut to Yu-topia.”

The lopsided smile that answered him – and he could count the number of times he’d seen Yuri really smile on one hand and have a few fingers left over – made him more than a little uncomfortable. Time to change the subject.

“Do they know why you’re here?”

“I’m here on vacation,” came the reply, sharp as a whip. Yuuri said nothing and waited. Yuri sighed, somehow managing to make it sound violent. “That’s what they think. It better stay that way.”

Yuuri hoped so too but lately, things hadn’t really been happening as he hoped.

The two of them didn’t talk any more until Yuuko came through the door, children in tow. They were more restrained than usual but there were wide grins on their faces. He could only imagine that the paparazzi had fought a battle against them and lost.

“They’re gone,” Yuuko announced, voice tired and satisfied. “For now at least.”

“They’ll be back,” Yuri muttered darkly.

“Aren’t you gonna skate?” One of the kids – the pink one – asked in heavily accented English. Yuri just shook his head, hunching in further.

It was decidedly odd to see a boy who’d until this point been a wild-eyed ball of aggressive energy look this subdued. Yuuri watched him curiously, not really knowing what to make of this version of Yuri. He’d thought he’d be furious, not dejected.

He knew how to adequately handle the usual Yuri – a delicate balance of distance and sass did the trick. This new version was an alien entity.

But he had committed.

“I’ll go with him to Yu-topia,” he announced to the room. Five pairs of eyes turned to him.

“I can take care of myself,” Yuri grumbled but he stood up all the same, one hand rising to clutch the strap of his backpack.

“It’ll be fine, Yuri-kun,” Yuuko said sunnily, winking at Yuri. Her kids nodded in perfect synchronization. “We’ll protect you.”

Yuri was flustered if his lack of loud protests was any indication. Despite everything, that pulled a smile from Yuuri. It disappeared just as quickly when he remembered saying the same words as Yuuko to Viktor multiple times these last two weeks only to now find himself here, with everything as far from _fine_ as logically possible.

The walk to Yu-topia was uneventful enough if one disregarded all the fence-jumping and minor trespassing that Yuuri’s shortcut entailed. It earned him some weird looks from Yuri that he pointedly ignored. In his defense, most of his knowledge of Hasetsu came from his early days here where he’d spent whole nights mapping out every street down to the most obscure turns. It had been habit and hobby both, entertaining him until he was capable of traversing all of Hasetsu with a blindfold on and cotton stuffed up his nose.

This was the first time it had any practical use.

They found Rei by the entrance to Yu-topia, carrying a crate of sake into the inn. She smiled warmly at them, and Yuuri responded with a polite bow. Then she was gone, and it was only him and Yuri. 

“Good luck. Please be careful.”

Yuri gave him yet another weird look, maybe wondering why Yuuri cared. He didn’t, not in the way Yuri assumed. But–

He cared about Viktor. He cared about their home by the beach. He cared about their quiet life in Hasetsu. He cared that they not be driven out by a boy who didn’t know any better and the press who would never know any better.

Phichit had mailed them their papers yesterday. They’d be here soon.

He didn’t want to have to use them.

“Are you coming? Soak and eat and stuff?”

It took Yuuri a moment to get out of his head and notice that Yuri was talking to him, one foot already past Yu-topia’s gate.

“Ah, no, I should get back to Ice Castle. Yuuko needs to go home.”

“Oh. Right.”

Yuuri stalled a moment, taking a long, hard look at this one young man who’d, in a handful of weeks, shattered the sweet equilibrium he and Viktor had found. Constant exposure had eased some of Yuuri’s roiling anger towards him. It was hard to hate when Yuuri was not used to holding grudges and Yuri kept reminding him of a very grouchy cat.

He liked cats. Dogs were objectively better, but cats were nice.

He’d still wreck this little kitty in a heartbeat if that would somehow magically undo the damage of these last two weeks.

Tonight. He’d tell Viktor tonight.

“Hey,” Yuri called just as Yuuri turned to leave. “Thanks.”

The sheer novelty of hearing those words was enough to make Yuuri stop in his tracks.

“You’re…welcome? I think.”

“God, you’re worse at this than me,” Yuri mumbled under this breath, possibly thinking Yuuri wouldn’t hear. “Whatever, Katsuki. Just – I know I can be an asshole, alright? And it’s not like I’ve been nice to you. But you’ve been cool from the start so…yeah.”

Yuuri blinked, so thoroughly caught off guard that he couldn’t do anything but stand there and gape.

He’d been _what_?

Yuri, who’d been looking expectantly at Yuuri, rolled his eyes and walked off, a careless wave and _See you around, Katsuki_ thrown over his shoulder.

Yuuri stared after him, so very confused.

 

* * *

 

He didn’t have to return to Ice Castle. Checking his phone for a response to his text from Viktor instead showed him a message from Yuuko, saying that she had closed the rink after the day’s debacle and that he could go home.

Viktor was waiting at home. Yuuri was sure he broke a few of his own rules in his haste to get to him.

Viktor wasn’t asleep, a bad sign since the last time he’d been awake when Yuuri got home had found him a pacing mass of nerves in the living room. This time too he was in the same room but seated in the couch rather than wearing down the rug. His phone was in his hand, caught in a white-knuckled grip.

“You know,” Viktor said softly, looking up at Yuuri who was frozen at the door. “I was always telling Yura he should be more polite to the press. Not a pushover, but clever. Give them what they want. Use them best. He never listened and that irritated me. Now, I see videos of him calling someone a spineless gossiping asshole, and I’m very happy. Isn’t that strange?”

Yuuri had assumed, foolishly apparently, that Yuuko had been dealing with the press and Yuri hadn’t interacted with them. That was perhaps not the case.

“Why did he do that?”

He walked over to Viktor. Blue eyes held his all the way there. They weren’t happy and neither was Viktor, but the smile that split his face when he turned back to the phone screen wasn’t the fake cheer Yuuri had come to loathe but a rictus of quiet savagery.

It looked good on him. Yuuri wanted to kiss it, wanted to feel it split open on own lips.

“She asked if I was dead.”

“Oh. No, that’s not strange at all. I actually admire his restraint.”

Viktor snorted, putting the phone away and pulling Yuuri down to his lap.

“Yura and restraint are not friends. But he’s doing well. You should know better than me.”

Yuuri nodded warily. Considering this was the first time in several days that Viktor was initiating conversation on this matter, he was entitled to some healthy caution.

“Maybe. I didn’t think you wanted to talk about it.”

“I don’t, _lapushka_. But after today, I can’t bury my head in the sand and wait for it all to pass. Yura, it seems, has brought a little hurricane to Hasetsu.”

Yuuri kissed the furrow between Viktor’s brows, stroking his hair back with one hand. Viktor scrunched up his face as his forehead was exposed but passively allowed Yuuri to brush kisses all along its surface. By the end, he was smiling albeit weakly.

“Tell me about today. You’re back early too.”

He didn’t respond immediately, combing through Viktor’s hair as he organized his thoughts. It was getting longer, going well past his nape. The fringe was constantly in his eyes now. It looked good on him. Anything would look good on him, even the baldness Viktor so feared.

“The press was already there when I got to Ice Castle,” Yuuri began, pulling back to watch Viktor as he did. “Yuuko was handling them. I went through the back and waited there with Yuri until Yuuko sent them all away.”

“They’ll be back,” Viktor murmured, lashes sweeping low and hiding his eyes. “You talked to Yura?”

“Mm. We talk almost every day.” Yuuri considered the secret he’d keeping, the harmless surprise he was loath to spoil even now. “I think he thinks we’re friends.”

His bewilderment must have shown in his voice because Viktor chuckled, looking at Yuuri with a fond gaze.

“Yura has few friends. I’m impressed. You don’t sound so sure though.”

Yuuri didn’t quite know how to break it to Viktor that he had spent these two weeks contemplating murder and other miseries to be inflicted on Yuri Plisetsky and was thus in no position to see him as a _friend_.

He had few friends anyway. He wasn’t keen on raising the number.

He could just say the last part and leave it at that. But he’d promised himself.

“I… haven’t really had many generous thoughts about him. He can’t be my friend.”

Viktor frowned, puzzled rather than angry.

“What thoughts exactly?”

“Ah, well, that’s – mostly unpleasant ones.” When Viktor continued to look expectantly at him, Yuuri had no choice but to blurt it out. Quick and painless until it wasn’t; like ripping off a limb. “I considered killing him. In the early days. I only didn’t because he was important to you. And I didn’t even see till later that something happening to him here would only attract more attention. At first, I just wanted…”

He shrugged, shifting uneasily on Viktor’s lap. He usually thought things out better. His work – actual work, not the gig at the rink – required that he have his wits about him amidst pressure. Yet, hundreds of years of experience were nothing in the face of the intensity of his feelings for Viktor. They would drive him to madness one day.

Viktor’s reaction to the proposed murder was a flinch that he didn’t try to hide, followed by a reproachful glare that drew a shrug out of Yuuri.

“Sorry.”

“You’re not. You never are. It says something about me that I’m not even surprised at this point.”

“I think it says you were meant to be mine.”

Viktor poked him in the belly, hard enough that Yuuri recoiled.

“Don’t try to smooth-talk me now, Yuuri. And _don’t_ kill my student.”

“Former student.”

“Semantics,” Viktor dismissed with a roll of his eyes that starkly reminded Yuuri of Yuri. “I’ll think of him as my student for as long as I live even if it’s not a relationship I ever want to resume.”

Yuuri, who’d tensed without being aware of it, relaxed upon hearing Viktor reiterate that he had no plans to return to his old life. Viktor didn’t miss it and sent him a knowing look that softened into a smile.

“I’m not going anywhere, my Yuuri.”

“I know, I know. I just worry sometimes.”

“I thought I’d be the one worrying about this but the past weeks have proved me wrong. Don’t think I didn’t notice. What other unpleasant thoughts were you considering?”

Yuuri thought he’d been hiding his concerns well. It was as disconcerting as it was pleasing to hear that Viktor had seen through him. At least now he knew how Viktor felt when Yuuri did the same to him.

He smiled and pressed close to Viktor whose arms tightened around Yuuri. Lips fluttered against his own in a gentle kiss that gave him the reassurance he needed to say what he did. Viktor had reacted calmly enough to Yuuri contemplating murder, had even seemed to understand why he did. Blood drinking and mind manipulation were far less deadly and while no less a violation, Viktor must surely be more accepting of those.

Yuuri hoped so. They were running out of options.

“I do know how to make him return home. No killing involved.” So far, so good. Viktor was listening attentively, leaning back on the couch so he could properly see Yuuri’s face. “I could bite him and compel him.”

It took less than a second for neutral curiosity to turn incandescent rage.

Viktor flipped them so fast that only his finely honed reflexes kept Yuuri from collapsing to the floor. He clutched the top of the couch with one hand, the other remaining twisted on Viktor’s shirt as he rose to loom over Yuuri, mouth stretched into a snarl.

That was a no then.

Yuuri had an inkling that he’d messed up _bad_.

“You will not,” Viktor practically spat, eyes hard and accent thick.

“Are you that protective of that boy?” Yuuri had to ask. He appreciated this visage of Viktor, a more terrible version of his usual, placid beauty. Open anger suited him, made Yuuri want to pull him down and fuck it out of him. He did not, however, appreciate this sudden surge of vehement affection towards Yuri.

Above him, Viktor laughed, hollow and loud, and leaned down so his face was inches away from Yuuri’s. Not taking him in a biting kiss was the hardest thing Yuuri had to do in some time.

“I don’t want _you_ biting Yura, Yuuri. I don’t want you biting anyone but me.” A hand crept up to his face, one finger tracing his lips and dipping inside when Yuuri instinctually parted them. He shuddered as Viktor caressed the slick muscle of his tongue and then the back of his teeth, the tip of his finger finally coming to rest on the sharp tip of a canine. Yuuri hadn’t even realized it had lengthened until the fang pierced Viktor’s skin, dripping blood into his mouth. He swallowed convulsively, closing his mouth around the bleeding finger to suck in everything it had to give.

Viktor watched Yuuri’s mouth with darkened eyes, biting his own to try and fail to stifle a moan.

“This belongs to me,” he said once Yuuri reluctantly released his hand. “I’m the only one you’ll ever need.”

Yuuri’s hips jerked up, finding no friction.

Logic said silly things like _I know that and I don’t want to eat him, it’s just practical_.

His mouth said, “Yes. God, Vitya, _yes_. I could search the whole world, but I’ll never want anyone like I want you.”

Some of the mania in Viktor’s eyes faded, replaced by a familiar heat that had Yuuri’s hand wandering to Viktor’s hip to push him down against Yuuri’s aching cock.

Viktor had other ideas. He let Yuuri grind against his ass for two, three beats before pulling away and lifting up on his knees. Balanced precariously on the couch and looming like a predatory nymph, he did little to curb the waves of desire ripping through Yuuri.

He wanted blood and flesh.

He wanted _Viktor_.

Viktor, breathing hard and flushed pink, stared down at Yuuri, gaze lingering where the pointed ends of his fangs dug into his lower lip. With a smile that grew into a smoldering smirk, Viktor grabbed the edge of his shirt – Yuuri’s shirt, now drenched in Viktor’s scent – and pulled it over his head.

Yuuri helplessly trailed his eyes over the defined lines of a torso flushed and marked all over from Yuuri’s hands and mouth, beckoning him to take another bite. But his gaze inevitably settled on the long column of Viktor’s neck, arched lightly and fair save for the red-purple bruises painting pretty patterns along its length.

His thirst, which had been steadily but unobtrusively building, roared to life.

A deep rumble made him look at Viktor’s face and the smug grin on it, undoubtedly born of how transparent Yuuri’s need was.

“Yuuri,” Viktor purred, circling his hand around own his throat and squeezing ever so slightly. A ragged noise tore through the air. It took Yuuri a moment realize that it was his own. Viktor smiled. “Tell me what you want.”

“You. Just you. Only you can satisfy me, Vityenka. Always.”

Viktor nodded, shivering slightly, and bent lower. Yuuri wasted no time getting his hands on the bared skin, hungrily palming the warm flesh presented. Viktor kissed him, quick and light, and Yuuri loved his mouth, he did, but that wasn’t what he wanted now, and Viktor clearly felt the same because the next second, Yuuri’s nose was buried in the junction of his human’s neck and shoulder, breathing deep to consume the scent that made his thirst burn hotter.

He bit, fangs sliding deep.

Viktor groaned, clinging to Yuuri’s shoulders.

The door shuddered.

He didn’t know which one of them moved first, but it was rough and messy, his canines tearing a bloody line down to Viktor’s collarbone. The sound that followed, a muffled whimper was almost lost amidst the loud banging that came from outside.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri breathed, distraught at the pained grimace on Viktor’s face. His lapped at the wound, shallow but long, and tongued the tears until flesh knitted back together. “So sorry, love,” he whispered as he cleaned the blood spilled with his mouth.

“Not your fault,” Viktor replied. His voice was strange, distant and choked. “Yuuri, Yuuri, he’s here.”

He didn’t understand what Viktor was saying, not until the blood-induced haze cleared from his mind and he heard the voice accompanying the pounding on the door.

“Oi,” shouted the very distinct voice of one Yuri Plisetsky. “Katsuki! Open the fucking door! I know you’re in here.”

Viktor’s hands were claws now, nails digging into Yuuri’s arms. He shook them off gently and caught him by the shoulder, bodily turning him so he was looking at Yuuri and not at the darkness of the foyer.

“Vitya.”

“He’s here.”

Viktor was outwardly calm. Only the wildness in his eyes and the thinness of his mouth gave away his distress.

“I’ll take care of him. You don’t have to talk to him. Stay here. Or in the bedroom if you’d rather.”

“But–”

“Do you want to see him, Vitya?”

“ _No_. But–”

“Then let me handle this.”

They were whispering, faces close together to be heard over the racket coming from outside. It almost sounded like Yuri was trying to kick in the door.

Yuuri slid out from under Viktor who fell back to the couch, head falling awkwardly on one of its arms. Yuuri leaned to kiss him, soft and soothing, and turned to head for the door.

A hand caught his, stopping him. Viktor, sitting up, gazed up at him with wide, imploring eyes. There was red staining his lips, blood transferred from Yuuri’s mouth.

“Don’t hurt him.”

Yuuri wanted to disagree.

“I won’t.”

He closed the door to the living room behind him as he passed it, stepping into the foyer and the trembling front door. The yelling was in Russian now. He could hear Viktor’s name.

Yuuri yanked open the door and just barely avoided a kick to the ribs.

Yuri stood outside, stumbling as he went off balance but recovering quickly to stay on his feet. His face was distorted into an expression of pure, unfettered fury. His body almost vibrated with the force of it.

Blazing green eyes met Yuuri’s. If looks could kill, he’d burn to a crisp in a nanosecond.

“Where is he?” Yuri hissed, taking a long stride to get into Yuuri’s face, making him crane his head to meet Yuri’s glare.

“Who?”

He kept his voice hard and cold, a far cry from the needy whimper it had been with Viktor mere minutes ago.

“You fucking know who, bastard. Where is Viktor?”

He’d known. The moment he’d heard Yuri’s voice – or maybe even before, with the first shuddering groan of their door – he’d known. Yuri wouldn’t be here, in a lonely house well removed from the town proper and tucked away in a copse of trees on the beach, if he wasn’t at least reasonably sure that Viktor was here.

One look at Yuri’s incensed glare was all Yuuri needed to know that he couldn’t bluff his way out of this.

Apparently, he’d been silent too long because Yuri snarled and tried to shoulder his way past him. Perhaps he thought it’d be easy, with Yuri’s athletic build and Yuuri’s apparently slight frame. And Yuuri had told Viktor he wouldn’t hurt this human, and he meant to keep his word unless forced otherwise, but no promise could have kept his hand from shooting out to snatch Yuri by the wrist.

Delicate bones creaked under his grip. Yuri’s face paled.

“What the–”

That was all Yuuri allowed him to say before dragging him out of the porch and through the grove into the beach where the gentle roar of the ocean drowned out Yuri’s tirade of curses.

Once they were at enough of distance from the house that Yuri couldn’t just rush back the instant he was released, Yuuri let go of his hand and turned to face him. Yuri rubbed his wrist with a scowl, angry and wary as he glowered at Yuuri.

“Go home, Yuri. Go back to Russia.”

He didn’t think for even a second that Yuri would listen. The sneer he received confirmed as much.

“Where the fuck is Viktor, Katsuki?”

“That’s none of your business.”

He didn’t quite expect the punch. Yuri was fast and furious, and Yuuri doubled over as a strong fist slammed into his stomach. The pain was negligible, the shock less so, but he managed to seize the hand before it withdrew and throw the boy to the ground. Instinct screamed at him to be on Yuri, to bare his neck and bite, to destroy the threat so thoroughly that it’d never again rise, but he kept himself in check, backing away a step without taking his eyes off Yuri.

He rolled to his feet quickly, shrugging off the fall like it was nothing. Fair enough. Yuuri had seen him brush off worse on the ice.

“Not my business?” Yuri seethed. “He’s my goddamn coach. He’s my _friend_. And you – you motherfucker, you _knew_. You knew I was looking for him. You asked me about it, you listened. Now I find you’ve had him all along. So tell me where the hell he is, you creep, before I call the police.”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow.

He’d been worrying about this so long but now that it was happening, he felt remarkably calm. He knew what he could do.

He just had to decide if he should.

“Would he call you a friend, I wonder,” Yuuri mused, smiling when Yuri gave an incoherent shout. He didn’t try to hit him again so he must be thinking clearly despite everything. Except for when he’d decided to confront Yuuri on his own. What if he’d been an actual kidnapper?

Or worse, murderer?

Yuuri smiled wider. Yuri flinched back, eyes widening.

“ _Suka_. What the fuck is wrong with you? I swear to god, if you’ve done something to him, I’ll–”

“Enough, Yura.”

Yuuri and Yuri both startled, one jumping, the other freezing. Yuuri whipped his head around, disbelieving. He had been too preoccupied with Yuri to even hear Viktor approach them.

Viktor, fully dressed again, came to stand beside Yuuri. He took Yuuri’s hand in his, twining their fingers together. Yuuri didn’t react for a few seconds before he came to his senses and gripped back. He could feel the rigid tension in Viktor’s body. His skin was colder than it should be.

Yuri gaped at them, something like horror dawning on his face. 

For all his angry certainty that Viktor was here, he sure seemed stunned to see him.

And how did Yuri find out anyway?

Before Yuuri could ask, Viktor spoke.

“Not another word about my Yuuri. I’m here because I want to be.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content-wise, the next chapter is going to be the most unpleasant of this story. If it helps, know that I do love Yuri Plisetsky.
> 
>  _Aishiteru yo_ : I love you (anime nerds will find this redundant but this is the serious-big-deal-commitment expression of love)  
>  _Ya ne mogu zhit bez tebya_ : I can’t live without you (This is a bit too literal as far as Viktor’s concerned but again, a very serious expression of love)  
>  _Der'mo_ : Shit  
>  _Lapushka_ : Darling/Sweetheart  
>  _Suka_ : Bitch 
> 
> Keep an eye on this series because a ficlet from Yuri’s POV will be out next week. And I might post some tumblr drabbles too.


	12. hold you down and tear you open, live inside you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuri try to talk things over. It goes about as well as expected. Yuuri makes it all worse, shockingly enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case any of you had forgotten that Yuuri is fundamentally an amoral dick, let this chapter remind you.
> 
>  **An important note:** Those who wish to be warned of sensitive content, please go to the end notes. Those who want to be surprised, however unpleasantly, go right ahead and read.
> 
> There's a one-shot about how Yuri found out about Viktor being with Yuuri. This chapters gives the barest detail of it, but [ the full story along with Yuri POV can be found here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12817293)
> 
> Sex-specific tags: Blowjob, Rimming

There were no words in any of the languages he knew that could express how desperately Viktor did not want to be here.

His heartbeat thundered in his ears, drowning out the steady rumble of the sea. He was sure he should be shaking, but his hand was steady where it gripped Yuuri’s, and his words didn’t quiver as he flung them at Yuri like daggers.

The horrified glare Yuri was giving them made something that might be guilt twinge in him, but it was swiftly eclipsed by anger.

Yuri shouldn’t be here. If he weren’t, then Viktor wouldn’t have to be out here, facing the imminent dissolution of the peaceful life he and Yuuri had built in this quiet coastal town.

Viktor knew there was little chance of dealing with Yuri quietly. Maybe if he had confronted him the moment he set foot in Hasetsu, it’d have been fine, but after weeks of hiding and lying, there was no point hoping for an easy resolution. The expression twisting Yuri’s face, all stunned rage, confirmed as much.

He couldn’t have stayed in the house, pacing, fretting, waiting for Yuuri to return, and praying he wouldn’t have blood on his teeth when he did. He hadn’t lied to Yuuri; he truly didn’t want to face Yuri who was young and fiery and obstinate, undoubtedly here to drag Viktor back to Russia kicking and screaming.

As if he had the right. As if he could understand.

He didn’t _want_ to deal with this, but Viktor knew better than most that there were simply some things you had to do. Skate until your bones creaked, smile until your heart hurt, win until your soul numbed, and now, talk down a threat while you mourned a dream. He couldn’t just hide and let Yuuri fight his battles. Viktor was better than that.

There was a sudden pressure on his hand, almost painful, and Viktor startled out of his little internal pep talk, turning his head to find Yuuri looking at him, sweet face creased in concern. Across from them, Yuri was oddly silent, but Viktor assumed he was observing and building up steam for more yelling. The more he changed, the more he stayed the same.

“Are you alright?” Yuuri asked, so softly that even Viktor only barely heard him.

“Yes,” he answered unthinkingly. Yuuri’s frown grew. “No. I mean no, I’m not. But I have to do this. I can’t just hide forever, Yuuri.”

“Sure you can, sweetheart. But I understand.  Would you–”

“Oi!” There it was, the shout Viktor was expecting. “Quit mumbling and look at me. Viktor, you asshole, have you been here all this time?”

Viktor sighed and turned to face Yuri, summoning a bright smile that felt both blisteringly familiar and strangely alien. But it would do for now. Except – Yuuri pressed closer to him, supposedly in a silent show of support, and the smile crumpled like it had never been. Viktor floundered for a moment before trying again, this time with a smaller, gentler smile that also slid off like water from his mouth. He could feel two sets of eyes on him but only one mattered. He ignored Yuri once more to look at Yuuri, unsurprised to find his gaze trained on Viktor.

“Oh, Yuuri,” he whispered, helpless to resist the need to lean in and press their mouths together.

Kissing Yuuri was comforting, the unhurried movements of their lips a grounding rock amidst the storm Yuri had brought to their home. When Viktor pulled back after several long seconds, he found himself smiling, soft and genuine.

Yuri, having stepped closer during Viktor’s distraction, seemed far less comforted. Quite opposite if the enraged contortion of his expression was any indication. There was also something else there. Disbelief, as he stared at Viktor with a narrowed gaze. He knew why. Having Yuuri beside him made him stronger but also weakened him in fundamental ways, leaving him bared to Yuri’s prying eyes.

The only Viktor Yuri knew was the one to whom masks and smiles were as easy as breathing. Even when he’d fallen apart towards the end, he had chosen to run rather than let them see the flawed mess of a man underneath.

Yuuri, though, had seen nothing else from day one, when Viktor had been just too tired with everything – fame, life, himself – to try and pretend. Half-hearted attempts had been politely ignored and more steadfast ones firmly torn down. Yuuri only ever asked that Viktor be himself. With Yuuri, he was friend, pet, and lover, not the perfect king of the ice.

And he'd been spoiled by that. Long months of affection and acceptance had softened him, whittled him down to one raw, throbbing nerve that pulsed to the stuttering beat of Yuuri's heart.

Viktor didn't regret a moment of it.

But Yuri wouldn't – couldn't – understand that, and it was up to Viktor to make him leave anyway.

“I think you knew very well I was here, Yuri, or you wouldn’t be here. As lovely as it is to see you, I have to confess that I wish you’d stayed in Russia.”

“I don’t give a shit what you want, Viktor. Do you have any idea how worried we–everyone else has been? Yakov barely has any hair left.”

“Yakov knows quite well I’m safe.”

Yuri scoffed, blond hair flying violently with the movement.

“Bullshit,” he spat in English before, with a scathing glance at Yuuri, switching to Russian. “He knows you’re alive and in Japan. He doesn’t know you’re safe. None of us do. Why do you think I’m here? Your dog died, you were a mess, you sleepwalked through the Olympics, you shut yourself in your house, and then fucking _disappeared_ without a word. And now you’re hiding in this hole of a town why? Because your creep of a boyfriend here?”

Viktor felt his lips twist into a snarl before he was able to get himself under control.

“Please don’t insult Yuuri.”

Yuri didn’t even flinch at the fury Viktor failed to hide. Instead he shifted his attention to Yuuri, glaring daggers at him. Viktor sneaked a look at Yuuri and found him meeting Yuri’s glare with a perfectly bemused expression.

“Yura, would you mind speaking in English? Yuuri doesn’t understand much Russian.”

“No. Fuck that. I want to talk to you. _Alone_.”

Viktor clutched Yuuri’s hand tighter.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t trust him. He knew I was here, he knew I was looking for you. He had the gall to ask me about it like he didn’t have you squirreled away in his house. He’s a bloody liar.”

Viktor wasn’t too surprised at this turn of events. Yuri had never appreciated dishonesty, not even when he was little brat with more talent than tact.

Well, he still had no tact.

“Vitya,” Yuuri murmured from beside him, tugging lightly at their joined hands. “What’s wrong? You’re tensing up.”

“He wants to talk to me alone,” Viktor replied just as quietly, gamely ignoring Yuri’s growing frown.

There was a considering hum from Yuuri but before Viktor could turn to him, he was being tugged away, away from Yuri and back to their house. He had the wild thought that Yuuri was just abandoning this whole interaction. It wouldn’t be that easy though, and in the end, Yuuri didn’t go far, just so that they were no longer within earshot of Yuri.

Viktor threw a glance at Yuri and found him staring furiously after them without making any move to follow. He was sure that wouldn’t be the case if they tried to leave his sight.

“Do _you_ want to talk to him alone?” Yuuri asked him, cupping Viktor’s face with both hands and pulling his gaze away from Yuri. Viktor raised his own hands to wrap his fingers around Yuuri’s wrists, the cool softness of them a comforting anchor.

“Not exactly. Then again, I don’t want to talk to him at all. But I know him well enough to know that he won’t leave us be just because we ask nicely.”

He quieted, closing his eyes and dropping his head, letting it be supported only by Yuuri’s firm hold.

He didn’t want to go back to Yuri without Yuuri and brave what was sure to be harsh words born out of misplaced concern and the blissful ignorance of youth. At his age, Viktor had also thought he knew best. Look at him now.

But there was no denying that it would be easier to appease Yuri in this rather than risk angering him to the point where Yuuri would be tempted to go ahead and use his less than savory solutions.

“I’ll go,” Viktor declared, opening his eyes. Two chilly thumbs stroked his cheeks, followed by equally cool lips that pressed sweetly to his skin.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“I know. But it’s easier this way.”

“I’ll be around. Out of sight, but I’ll listen in. Would you like that?”

Yuri wouldn’t. Viktor was certain of that. But Yuri had no say in this, and Viktor would feel infinitely better if he knew his Yuuri was only a call away, his arms a sanctuary Viktor could fall into when the reality of the life he left behind loomed too close.

“Yes, please.”

Yuuri nodded and dropped a quick kiss on Viktor’s forehead, pulling away after. Unlike the placid amusement he’d sported when talking to Yuri, his expression now was one of acute worry. Lips a thin line and eyebrows a tense curve, his face revealed everything Viktor was trying so hard to keep hidden.

He turned away from Viktor with a strained smile, but he hadn’t even taken a step towards their home when Viktor reached out, snagging Yuuri by the edge of his sleeve.

“Vit–woah!”

Viktor clung to Yuuri, hiding his face in his soft mop of hair while Yuuri made muffled noises against his neck. His arms still came to twine around Viktor, hugging him with crushing force. The painful pressure was reassuring.

“Yuuri? You won’t let me go, will you?”

The question was stupid and he knew it, but the rational part of his mind that said as much was overridden, and not for the first time, by the tumultuous swirl of emotions that wondered and worried about things Viktor would have happily gone a lifetime without even considering.

“It’s not too much trouble, is it?” he whispered, resisting Yuuri’s attempts to draw back and look at Viktor. He couldn’t do this while looking into Yuuri’s bottomless eyes. “With Yura here and making a fuss, with having to maybe leave…we’re still us, aren’t we?”

Yuuri’s arms around him tightened to the point that Viktor feared for his ribs, but it lasted only an instant, and then he was stepping back, breaking through the circle of Viktor’s arms as if they were feeble twigs. He kept his hands on Viktor’s shoulder and leaned forward to meet his gaze squarely.

“Vitya, listen to me. You’re mine. You’ll always be mine, and _no one_ is taking you from me. This? This isn’t trouble. We’ll get through this.”

There was a tremble in Yuuri’s voice and a rigidity to his body that told Viktor that for all his domineering confidence, Yuuri also wouldn’t breathe easy until this was resolved once and for all. But that did nothing to erase the calm that settled over Viktor as Yuuri promised with words and eyes and touch to never let him go.

It was no great revelation, just an affirmation of something he already knew deep down, but that didn’t make it any less precious.

Viktor leaned in to rest his forehead against Yuuri’s. His breath fell cold on Viktor’s face, reminding him precisely what Yuri had interrupted.

“I’ll feed you before nightfall, Yuuri. Wait for me.”

He grinned at Yuuri’s choked groan and turned away, walking back to Yuri.

Halfway there, he looked over his shoulder, but Yuuri was nowhere in sight.

 

* * *

 

Yuri was a fuming mess when Viktor reached him. He painted a pretty picture; the sun and the sea behind him, long hair fluttering in the breeze, gem-green eyes glittering in fury.

Viktor didn’t stop until he was right in front of him, close enough to reach out and touch him. Yuri gave him the same black look he’d been shooting Yuuri, something complicated flickering through his face as his gaze dropped to Viktor’s neck. He scowled harder, lips thinning into a firm line of derision. Viktor knew what he was staring at; Yuuri’s marks always stood out starkly on Viktor’s white skin. If they were enough to offend Yuri so much, then the rest of his torso, painted in shades of blue and red and yellow, would send him into a right fit.

Viktor raised his chin to better highlight his throat and the unmistakable bruises adorning it. He held that pose, unashamed, until Yuri’s eyes crept back to meet his.

They were questioning and accusatory.

“Yura,” Viktor sighed. “Are you going to be difficult?”

That was the wrong thing to say. No shock there. Viktor always said the wrong thing to Yuri unless it had to do with skating and sometimes even then. In a way, it was for the best that their coach-skater relationship had been so short-lived because he couldn’t see it lasting in the long run.

He had admired Yuri’s drive and Yuri, not as secretly as he’d like everyone to think, had admired Viktor’s success. It had been good at first. But those months leading up to Pyeongchang had been fraught with short tempers and frayed nerves, the stress of an Olympic season ripping into the fragile bond they shared. Yuri, flaring bright with endless ambition, had not appreciated the shadow of Viktor’s legacy that perpetually loomed over him. Viktor, deadened to life and newly directionless, hadn’t known how to deal with someone who was everything he used to be but with twice the passion. It seemed a miracle now that the two of them had survived those two years together, but Yakov had helped in his characteristic loud way.

Then Makka had passed, and it had been all downhill from there.

Their last interaction had been Yuri screaming obscenities from beyond Viktor’s door in an ill-thought attempt to ‘snap him out of it.’

And now, looking at Yuri as he unwittingly thrashed the peace Viktor had found in Hasetsu, he realized that he was still fond of him. Viktor didn’t have much in the way of family but Yakov and Yuri were the ones that came close; a distant father figure and the little brother he never wanted.

He would try to protect Yuri from Yuuri, who was well-intentioned but also had a tunnel vision and hadn’t hidden the edge in his expression all that well when Yuri came banging on their door.

That man would murder for Viktor. He didn’t want that, and he sure as hell didn’t want Yuri caught up in that.

“Yura,” Viktor called, interrupting the stream of vitriolic Russian that he hadn’t been paying attention to. He could easily imagine what Yuri was saying. “You really do need to leave. You deserve a break after the last season, but we both know that’s not why you’re here.”

Yuri stared at him incredulously.

“Did you seriously not hear a single word I just said?”

Well, no.

Viktor shrugged noncommittally but Yuri clearly heard the unsaid answer because his scowl became even darker, lending an ugly cast to his soft features. In a shocking twist, rather than yell some more, Yuri made a visible attempt to calm down. Deep breaths and what might be a countdown later, his glare had lost some of its murderous intensity, and he looked like he could speak without breathing fire.

“Viktor, what are you doing, really?”

Ah, he truly was growing up.

“I am taking some time for myself in a nice little Japanese town with the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met.”

Every word of it was true and while the last part was somewhat unnecessary, it was honestly worth it to see Yuri turn that shade of fire-engine red.

“You–you’re actually,” Yuri sputtered, wildly looking between Viktor and the cluster of trees that hid their house from view. Yuuri was also probably there, hovering close and intent. “I don’t get it. What’s with that lying asshole?”

Viktor sighed, not pleased to hear Yuuri be insulted for something he did on behalf of Viktor. Mostly. The lies weren’t completely altruistic. Either way, he wasn’t about to explain to Yuri and politely asking him to stop cursing Yuuri was a lost cause.

That left Viktor with the task of answering Yuri’s question.

It was remarkably easy.

“He’s my life and my love.”

Viktor could feel the faint, deep-felt smile on his face, something that Yuri had probably never seen. He didn’t seem fazed for more than a split second, and then he was back to scowling, the previous breathing exercise rendered useless.

“He’s _what_. How long have you even known him?”

“We met in April.”

Yuri’s disbelieving huff made Viktor feel distinctly judged. He didn’t appreciate that.

“It’s been what, 3 months? And you want to act like he’s your soulmate or some shit? Give me a break, Viktor. I’m not stupid and I know you. This is some fling with a lousy bastard, not the romance of your lifetime. Don’t be an idiot.”

Viktor felt his smile freeze on his face and then grow into something small and sharp-edged. He didn’t even realize he’d moved until he had Yuri’s jaw in his grip, fingers digging harshly into skin and bone.

“No, Yura, you do not know me.”

Soulmate wasn’t a word that he’d ever consciously considered but it fit perfectly. If he and Yuuri were meant to be, two souls brought together across centuries and countries, then that was a notion he was more than willing to indulge.

Viktor had _lived_ these last three months. He knew the overwhelming strength of his connection to Yuuri. He felt it every day, every second, in every heartbeat and every breath.

Yuri had no right to undermine that. And he most certainly did not know Viktor if he too bought into the media’s embellished stories of his nonexistent love life.

Ha, flings. He couldn’t even remember the face of his last one night stand. It had been that long ago.

Yuri shook off his hand, backing off a step. He looked wary and also like he’d very much like to throw a punch. Viktor might even welcome it. He was not a man who favored violence, but Yuri’s words itched under his skin, making his limbs twitch for some unknown need.

He had neither wanted nor expected consideration from Yuri, knew he wouldn’t get it. But it was frustrating to stand here and listen to him spew shit about things he couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

“What do you want from me, Yuri Nikolayevich?”

Yuri flinched at the frost in Viktor’s voice and then glared even harder as if to make up for that momentary weakness. Viktor used to be fascinated by how Yuri tries to bluster his way through hurt but now, even with him being the source of that hurt, he had no room to care.

He was just…tired.

Less than fifteen minutes with someone he’d left behind had drained him in ways no amount of harmless interaction with the oblivious residents of Hasetsu had managed.

Perhaps the past should remain the past. Forever.

Perhaps Viktor should never go back, just disappear as he’d set out to do that cold April night, with neither farewell nor apology.

This time, at least he’d be vanishing to a fate far sweeter than what the dark depths of an ocean could give him.

“Come back to Russia,” Yuri finally said, gruff but less angry than Viktor was expecting. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you. I know things have been weird for a while. I’m sorry, I–I didn’t deal with it well before. I’m still not but forget me. There are others waiting for you. Yakov, Lilia, Mila, even Georgi – they’re all worried. Hell, Giacometti’s been checking in with me and Yakov for weeks now. Apparently, you rarely text him and tell him nothing important. And your fans are freaking out. The press is saying you’re dead. Just come back, alright? You can–we can fix this, whatever it is.”

This wasn’t what Viktor had been expecting. Yuri had changed from the thoughtless firecracker he had been, but he was still driven by volatile emotions rather than anything else. This kind of reasonable appeal was the last thing Viktor thought he would say.

As far as surprises went, it was pleasant enough, even while it left Viktor unmoved.

“I never told any of you where I was. How did you find me?”

Yuri exhaled sharply, visibly displeased, and Viktor half-expected him to demand answers rather than questions. But he only sighed loudly and replied.

“I was there when Giacometti told you about this place. I’d almost forgotten it, but when you fucked off to Japan, well, this seemed as good a place to search as any.”

“Why didn’t you leave when you found nothing?”

“I had a feeling something was up,” Yuri muttered ominously, glowering in the direction of Viktor and Yuuri’s home. “I thought that guy–whatever. I was right anyway. You’re here.”

“How did you find me?”

About this, Viktor really was curious. He and Yuuri had already assumed the conversation at Pyeongchang had led been Yuri’s starting point, but him suddenly pinpointing Viktor’s location after weeks of fruitless searching remained perplexing.

For a second, Yuri appeared conflicted but then he dug into the pocket of his sweats – he was still in his practice clothes; the discovery must have been _very_ sudden – and pulled out his phone. He swiped a few times and then all but shoved the screen in Viktor’s face.

He pulled back, startled, before taking the phone from Yuri. A picture filled the screen, taken in low lighting from an awkward angle. It was Viktor and Yuuri, dressed in loose-fitting clothes and huddled together by a low table full of steaming food. The shot caught only Yuuri’s profile but Viktor was in full view of it, all smiling eyes as he opened his mouth wide for Yuuri to feed him katsudon.

He was wearing the wig, the long brown strands effectively obscuring his identity. But anyone who really knew Viktor could make the connection easily. Yuri sure did.

“How? _Who?_ ”

“Some asshole. He found it cute. The resident recluse and his foreigner boyfriend.”

The venom in Yuri’s voice wrenched Viktor’s attention back to him. His gaze was hostile where it lingered on the phone.

It was hard to believe that they’d been found out because of some stranger’s creepy voyeurism. But the evidence stared back at Viktor, a happy moment frozen in time and used against them in the oddest of ways.

Yuri took the phone back from Viktor’s limp fingers, clutching it tight in a white-knuckled fist.

Silence descended, thick and tense, as Viktor and Yuri stared at each other. He could practically see the impatience building in Yuri’s eyes until it burst out in a snappish question.

“Well? You’re coming back, right?”

Viktor wordlessly reviewed Yuri’s earlier speech. People waiting for him, hm? It was kind of them to be worried.

But what good would hollow concern do for Viktor? None of them – Yakov, Lilia, Chris, Mila, Georgi, and especially Yuri – had been able to help him then. He wouldn’t even have allowed it, wouldn’t have known how to.

And what was the point now in returning to people who would pick and prod at half-healed wounds, cruel in their curiosity and callous in their concern?

Was he just being unfair?

Possibly. He didn’t care. He had everything he needed right here, and there was no one who needed him in Russia.

Yuuri needed him. Yuuri wanted him.

“Yura,” he spoke slowly, knowing it was impossible to stave off the impending explosion but trying anyway. “There is no future for me in Russia.”

Yuri made a sound that was pure aggravation, his lips stretching in a vicious grimace.

“You think you have one with your boytoy here?”

Viktor frowned in disapproval that went ignored.

“Yes,” he answered.

He didn’t think about the uncertainly looming ahead of him, about illegal papers that were headed towards them, about Yuuri offering to kill or bite Yuri with almost guileless sincerity.

None of that altered the fact that his future _was_ with Yuuri. Neither of them would ever accept anything less.

He thought Yuri would yell again but instead, his eyes bored into Viktor, cold and unforgiving.

“You’re serious,” he said quietly after a long pause. “You really do plan to stay here with Katsuki and ignore your life.”

“It’s not forever. We are, I mean, Yuuri and I. But Russia and everyone else…I’ll deal with it one day. But not now, not yet.”

“You want to hide here like a coward while the rest of us lose our minds with worry?”

Viktor’s smile was sharp and cutting, his words no less unforgiving.

“Lose your minds? Don’t make me laugh, Yura. You will move on, all of you. I’m old news. The world has a goldfish memory. Why don’t you run back to Mother Russia and return to chasing my past self on the ice. Try hard enough and you might beat him.”

Yuri paled, pain flashing through his face before it was buried away. He spat his next words at Viktor, voice high and trembling with rage.

“Fucking fine. You’re out of your mind. If you won’t listen to me, then deal with Yakov.”

“Does he know why you’re here?”

“No,” Yuri replied, a lopsided sneer warping his expression. “But he will. Now.”

The phone was already in Yuri’s hands and it was a simple matter to raise it to his ear, thin fingers tapping out oft-used patterns. Viktor lurched forward, reaching, but Yuri danced out of his way easily, grim determination radiating from every inch of his body.

“Don’t you dare, Yura,” Viktor bit out, making another swipe for the phone that was also evaded.

“You aren’t giving me a choi– _what the fuck_ –”

Yuri wasn’t the only one cursing. Viktor found himself staggering back with a startled swear on his lips as Yuuri appeared out of what might as well have been thin air. One moment, it was just him and Yuri on the beach, but the next, Yuuri was there beside Yuri, one hand around the boy’s wrist while the other plucked the phone out of his grip.

For a delicate instant, none of them so much as twitched. Viktor gaped at Yuuri, taking in the blank lines of his face and the cold steel in his gaze. Even the most aloof expression he had directed towards Viktor in their early days hadn’t been this unsettling. It was almost like he was looking at a stranger.

Then Yuuri looked at Viktor and the edges of his mouth softened a bit, a sliver of familiarity that let Viktor release the breath he’d been holding in a rush.

“Yuuri,” he gasped.

“Vit–”

“Let me go, you fucker,” Yuri cut in, twisting his hand forcefully. Viktor expected Yuuri to let him go, but he reeled Yuri in instead, both hands clamping down on his shoulders. Yuri resisted, throwing his whole body into breaking out of the grip, but Yuuri held fast, pulling him close against his own body and pushing down until Yuri fell to his knees with a startled yelp.

Viktor glanced sharply at Yuuri only to find him looking down at Yuri with an expression that sent shudders down his spine.

He’d known that Yuuri wasn’t a good man, that he wasn’t necessarily a man at all.

But it was one thing to know that the person you loved was a predator and another entirely to see him staring down a teenage boy as if he were a bug to be crushed.

“…Yuuri?”

Yuuri’s head snapped up, red-flecked brown piercing into Viktor. He held fast under the scrutiny. It was Yuuri. He wasn’t scared of Yuuri.

And sure enough, his eyes thawed after a few seconds punctuated by the sounds of Yuri’s cutting expletives and Viktor’s racing heart. Yuuri smiled at him, faint and reassuring, and Viktor found it in himself to return it.

On the sand, Yuri made another attempt to wrench free of Yuuri and was thwarted almost effortlessly.

Viktor saw his confusion and empathized. Yuuri looked soft and sweet, very much unlike someone who had the capacity to hold down a full-grown man and athlete. But Viktor had felt that strength for himself numerous times in far more pleasant situations. It was no use fighting it.

He was about to tell him to please let Yuri go but Yuuri spoke first.

“Who was he trying to call?”

“None of your bloody business,” Yuri hissed, handily switching to English. Yuuri didn’t so much as spare him a glance.

“Yakov. Our coach.”

“He’s in Russia?”

Viktor nodded, taking a step closer to the other two. Yuuri directed his attention back to the boy at his feet. Yuri met him head on with a glare that would kill if it could.

“That’s rude, Yura,” Yuuri told him, the diminutive falling from his lips in a silken purr. Viktor gritted his teeth, and Yuri blanched. “You shouldn’t bother him with things that do not concern him.”

“Don’t call me that,” Yuri spat. “And of course it concerns him. Viktor is our concern.”

“No, Yuri Plisetsky. He’s _mine_.”

Yuri seemed stunned by the possessive fervor in Yuuri’s voice. He gawked at Yuuri, looking oddly lost, before turning to Viktor. He didn’t know what Yuri saw on his face that made him look so horrified, but the sweetest of heats simmered within him at Yuuri declaring ownership in front of another. He assumed his feelings were reflected on his face, all of his facades torn down with Yuuri right here.

“What kind of fucked up shit–” was as far as Yuri got before a hand covered his mouth, none too gentle as it muffled him.

“Yuuri, don’t hurt him.”

Viktor couldn’t pinpoint why, but he didn’t expect Yuuri to listen to him this time. He was proven right when Yuuri just gave him a cool look before tilting his head, the motion deceptively innocent.

Neither of them could say even a word before Yuuri jerked, exhaling noisily through his nose as he looked at Yuri. Viktor followed suit and found Yuri with both hands wrapped around the wrist of the hand on his face. Blood leaked through Yuuri’s fingers, dripping down the back of his hand.

It took Viktor a moment to realize that Yuri had bitten him.

Yuuri chuckled.

Just that – a small, low laugh. No other reaction. For once, when Yuri’s wide eyes met his, Viktor could offer genuine commiseration.

“I think I liked you better when you were just a loud-mouthed annoyance, little kitten,” Yuuri told Yuri, making no move to remove his hand. If anything, he seemed amused as he stared at the sluggish flow of deep red.

Incomprehensible noises answered him. Probably more cursing, knowing Yuri. But angry though he surely was, Viktor could also see the fear in him.

Viktor, once again, was about to appeal on his behalf, but the words stuck in his throat when Yuuri pinned him with a crimson gaze.

There wasn’t a hint of brown left.

Viktor felt something dark and foreboding curl in his gut and spread inky fingers up his ribs to wrap around his pounding heart.

That was the moment he _knew_ ; one way or the other, this wouldn’t end well.

“Make a choice, Vitya,” Yuuri told him, voice pitched low and rumbling with a severity fell like ice on Viktor’s ears.

“What choice?” he mumbled through frozen lips. He didn’t even realize he’d started walking until he was close enough to touch Yuri’s knees with the tips of his shoes. Bony fingers clutched him, tugging at his pants, but he couldn’t look away from Yuuri to indulge Yuri.

Yuuri shrugged, nonchalant on the surface, anything but underneath. Viktor knew; he could see the dangerous passion that lurked beneath that mild smile.

“Return to Russia or stay in Hasetsu. This one will not leave you be unless you do, yes? I gleaned that much from your conversation. You could, if you wish. I will support you.”

He didn’t understand, why was Yuuri – why would he–

“Oh, Vityenka, no,” Yuuri soothed, making an aborted movement as if to reach for Viktor. “I didn’t mean I’d abandon you. Russia, America – it doesn’t matter. I’d follow you. Anywhere and everywhere. It is fine if you have changed your mind from earlier, if your student here has convinced you.”

Oh. _Oh._

Viktor felt his knees weaken and almost joined Yuri on the sand but made himself move instead, circumventing the kneeling Yuri to throw himself at Yuuri, wrapping his arms around him despite of the awkwardness and burying his face in the crook of his neck.

“You scared me. I thought–” _–you were telling me to leave, to go back to that life, to be away from you, I–_ “Don’t do that, Yuuri.”

“Sssh, Vitya, I’m so sorry.” Yuuri nuzzled the top of Viktor’s head, a poor substitute for the sturdy embrace of his arms. “I just didn’t want you to feel trapped. I didn’t–couldn’t know if you wanted that. We talked about this so much, but I never told you that you could choose as you wish.”

“I fucking know that, Yuuri,” Viktor said, exasperated, pulling back to look at Yuuri who looked properly chastised. “I don’t want to. I _don’t_.”

Yuuri kissed him, quick and light. The constant stream of sounds from below got louder and Viktor felt guilt churn in his chest. But Yuuri spoke again before he could.

“That might not depend entirely on you anymore, Vitya.”

Viktor froze, slowly glancing down at Yuri who continued to struggle futilely against the hands holding him down.

Yuri knew Viktor was here. He could tell Yakov and the rest. He could tell the press. He couldn’t see Yuri doing the latter but anger made you do unwise things, and Yuri was undoubtedly incandescently furious.

Hasetsu was lovely; the perfect sanctuary. But that would mean nothing if its once-serene streets were invaded by people who wished to solve the mystery of Viktor Nikiforov’s disappearance. The curiosity of strangers was only a little less palatable than the concern of his former associates.

“I–Yuuri, I–” he stammered, feeling as if he were standing before a precipice, one gust away from plummeting.

He didn’t know what to say. What was there to say?

Had Yuuri seen this from the moment Yuri came knocking? Or had he held on to the same foolish hope like Viktor?

Suddenly, Yuuri swore and jerked. As Viktor watched, he lifted the hand that had been over Yuri’s mouth. It was stained red all over and Viktor could see freshly torn flesh in the meat of his palm.

“Sharp set of teeth you’ve got, Yuri,” Yuuri mused, examining his hand with an air of supreme indifference. Viktor leaned in, automatically offering comfort. Yuuri let him take his hand but there was no need. The skin was already fusing together. Viktor still pressed a kiss to the healing wound, uncaring after all this time of getting blood on his mouth.

He drew back to look at Yuri who was on one knee now, obviously having been stopped in an attempt to rise. Yuuri’s uninjured hand was around his throat, not tight enough to choke but in clear warning of the same. Yuri, though, only had eyes for Viktor.

“You know, Yuri,” Yuuri spoke into the tense silence. “You made me bleed, but I’ll be taking every drop back from Vitya here.”

And – okay, fine, that was definitely happening and would have even if Yuri hadn’t nearly bit through Yuuri’s hand, but did he _have_ to phrase it like that?

The terror that descended on Yuri’s face, too raw and sudden to be masked, told Viktor that Yuuri’s needling words had done their job.

“Viktor,” Yuri hissed urgently in Russian, mindful of the pressure on his throat but still defiant. “Who is this creep? What is he doing to you? He’s a psycho. Has he threatened you?”

“No, Yura, it’s not like that.”

“ _He just said_ –”

“It’s complicated!” Viktor yelled, throwing his hands up and backing up a step, sending a glare at Yuuri as he did. There was an infuriatingly amused smile on his face that morphed into a sheepish grin at Viktor’s irritation.

“Sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” Viktor sighed, rubbing his forehead. There was a headache building, psychosomatic probably.

He was too tired for this.

There was a commotion as Yuri used Yuuri’s distraction to escape. Yuuri made a vague noise as his knee was yanked down and an elbow rammed into his gut, Yuri inflicting as much damage as he could in his attempt to get away. He got maybe three feet away from them before Yuuri caught him around the waist, almost lifting him up as he tried to wrestle him down. The struggle didn’t last long. Viktor had barely made it to the grappling pair when Yuuri pinned Yuri with his back to the sand, sitting on his stomach with one hand on Yuri’s chest, the other once again plastered over his mouth.

“I’m trying very hard not to break your student, Vitya,” Yuuri told him, a frown on his face as he shifted on top of Yuri’s squirming body.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt him,” Viktor reminded, dropping down beside the two. He tentatively patted Yuri on the head, hoping it would convey that he was in no danger.

It didn’t seem to help.

“I won’t if you’re sure. But are you?”

“Of course I am,” Viktor whispered, unable to meet Yuuri’s eyes as his were arrested by Yuri’s bewildered, petrified ones.

“Oh? Alright then. Shall I let him go?”

 _Yes_ , Viktor wanted to say.

“Wait,” he said.

It sent pain lancing through his chest to see the betrayal on Yuri’s face, and so he looked away, right at Yuuri who waited for him calmly.

“I didn’t want this.”

“I know, Vitya. I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t Yuuri’s fault. At least not more than it was Viktor’s. That didn’t make it okay.

“If I choose Russia,” Viktor began, picking his words carefully. “If I return and you come with me, everyone will ask who you are. Yura here will say what you’ve done. What then?”

Yuuri shrugged.

“I need no one’s approval. Nor do you. It won’t be easy but I have faith we could figure it out. Worst case scenario, I’ll whisk you away. As for Yuri here – what can he say? He doesn’t know the truth and in the end, it’s his word against yours.”

Viktor nodded along, more out of desperation than anything else. His hands were clammy.

He wanted to go home.

“He might guess the truth. Your hand has healed, Yuuri.”

Yuuri seemed almost surprised as he glanced at the previously wounded flesh. Yuri’s eyes were on it too, but Viktor couldn’t look at him for long.

“Huh. True, that’s odd. Still, a teenager’s outrageous claims won’t convince the whole of humanity. Though if he gets too loud, someone will be asked to silence him. Someone will probably be me.”

“It’s a risk.”

“Certainly. But a relatively low one.”

“You have other ideas though, don’t you?” Viktor asked bitterly. He was shaking for real now, tiny tremors besieging his body. Tears prickled his eyes, not quite spilling over.

“I’ve told you all my ideas, Vitya.”

“I care for him, Yuuri. I don’t want him to die. I don’t want him hurt at all.”

“I know. But sometimes, we have to hurt the ones we love to protect them.”

Viktor choked on a mirthless laugh. He made himself look at Yuri, unsurprised to find him stripped off all bravado. His eyes were too wide, naked fear quivering in their depths. Of course he was scared. His mentor, a man he’d trusted, was conspiring with another man he’d befriended over his unpleasant fate.

Yuuri, on the other hand, was largely unruffled, but there was a hint of regret in the grim set of his mouth.

It wasn’t about Yuri. Viktor knew that with ironclad certainty. Maybe it was for Viktor and the choice he was being forced to make.

“What would you have me do, Vitya?”

He wanted to go home–

–to Yuuri.

“Make him forget. I’m sorry, Yura. I’m so sorry.”

Viktor staggered to his feet, almost collapsing back down as he put distance between himself and the men on the sand.

Yuuri watched him go. He wore none of the triumph Viktor had been half-expecting. He was pitiless and methodical as he pulled Yuri up by his hair and buried his face in his neck.

Viktor felt a single tear roll down his cheek.

 

* * *

 

He didn’t want to watch.

He would give anything to not have to watch.

He watched.

He watched as all fight drained out of Yuri’s body, as he writhed and moaned and pushed up against Yuuri, as he dug fingers into that dark head to press to closer to his teeth, as he shuddered even when Yuuri withdrew with bright blood coating his lips.

He watched as what belonged to him was given to another.

Revulsion and jealousy warred inside him, almost drowning out the guilt.

Yuuri was _his_.

And Yuri was never supposed to be hurt.

Look at them now.

Viktor had crumpled to the sand by the time Yuuri started whispering to Yuri, the words too low for him to hear. Yuri listened attentively with a dopey smile that sat grotesquely on his face, nodding and murmuring in response to Yuuri’s hurried words.

When Yuuri finally got up and away from Yuri, there were no angry eruptions. It was a silent boy with empty eyes that rose from the sand and picked up his phone and ambled towards the town.

Viktor watched him until he disappared, Yuuri a silent specter by his side.

“It’ll wear off soon,” Yuuri told him. Viktor turned his head to see his hand hovering uncertainly over Viktor’s shoulder. He stared at it for a long moment but didn’t lean towards it.

A part of him wanted to, even now.

“Let’s go,” Viktor said when he found his voice. It was rough and ragged, broken glass clogging his airway.

They walked home in strained silence, Viktor leading the way. His legs felt heavy and his heart heavier, but he kept himself moving, eager to be out of the suffocating open air. He couldn’t hear Yuuri, no soft footsteps, no rustle of fabric, no heavy breathing, but he could feel him in the burning presence on his back. Turn around and he’d meet Yuuri’s eyes.

He didn’t turn around.

The inside of the house was strangely quiet. Viktor was sure it was his imagination. Nothing was truly different from before Yuri’s arrival.

Yuri, who was now probably stumbling back to Yu-topia with a haze in his head.

The door closed behind him with a soft click. Viktor stayed as still as a statue until he felt something touch his shoulder.

“Vitya…”

“Don’t. I–I need a drink.”

There wasn’t any alcohol in the house. Yuuri had bought some sake for him but the last of that had been depleted a few nights ago, a glorious debacle that had ended with Viktor draped naked over Yuuri, pouting at being unable to get it up but still trying to cajole his lover into fucking him.

Yuuri had resisted, claiming that Viktor would pass out halfway through. Viktor hadn’t cared.

The hangover had been immense.

He’d like that right now; to drink deep and forget.

He made do with water, downing almost half a bottle, the icy liquid a balm to his parched throat. He kept taking little sips even after his thirst was sated, turned away from the kitchen door. Anything to avoid looking at Yuuri.

It was until he could no longer stomach another drop that he put the bottle away and closed the fridge, inanely missing the frigid air.  

The doorway was empty. Yuuri was nowhere in sight.

That only made him angrier.

He stalked out of the kitchen. The living room was empty too, and he was about to check the bedroom, an outraged scream building in his chest, when movement from the foyer caught his eyes. Yuuri wore a comically wary expression as he stepped out of the shadows and into the brightly lit room, coming to a stop a healthy distance from Viktor.

It was a far cry from where they had been an hour ago.

Viktor abruptly realized what he had been hoping for when he hurried back here. He’d wanted that easy peace back.

He was the greatest fool in the world, never learning.

Yuuri spoke first.

“Vitya. Viktor. I’m sorry.”

“Are you?” Viktor shot back, not really recognizing his own voice. It was hard and cold like it never was with Yuuri.

But he didn’t even have to close his eyes to be assailed with images of Yuuri bent over Yuri, mouth stained with blood that wasn’t Viktor’s.

Yuuri didn’t respond verbally but the nervous way he shifted was all the answer Viktor needed.

“Of course not. What’s there to be sorry about? You don’t care about anything, do you, Yuuri?”

Yuuri recoiled as if struck, shock and pain flashing through his face in rapid succession. Viktor thought he saw a suspicious glimmer in his eyes, something wet and red, but then Yuuri blinked and it was gone.

New guilt bloomed inside him.

“I care about you,” Yuuri told him, an unfamiliar emotion thickening the words.

Viktor released a frustrated breath.

“I know. I know, Yuuri.”

“We–I had to do it, Vitya. There was no choice. From the moment, he showed up, you know it was–”

“ _I fucking know!_ ” Viktor bellowed, the sudden shout making them both jump. Yuuri’s eyes were impossibly wide as they watched Viktor without blinking. Viktor opened his mouth, for apology or scream he didn’t know, and closed it without saying anything.

It was with numbness spreading through his heart and body both that he dropped to the couch, head bowed low and held between his hands.

He expected to feel cool fingers on his skin at any moment but the touch never came. He opened his eyes, but the spot where Yuuri would have knelt was empty.

“I’m sorry,” came a noticeably lost voice from some feet away, where Yuuri had been standing. “I don’t know what to do. To say. I don’t…”

Viktor laughed without humor, shaking his head as he raised it. Yuuri looked so awkward, standing frozen in the middle of the room, hands clasped before him as if in prayer.

Did that make Viktor his God?

“It’s hard to have an argument with a man who refuses to yell back, Yuuri.”

It was a joke, albeit a tasteless one. Yuuri didn’t take it as such.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. Viktor knew he meant it now, but he was still growing to hate the word. “I can–should I?”

“What?”

“Yell back. Would that be good?”

Viktor couldn’t help it. He fell sideways to the couch and started laughing.

He laughed until tears sprang to his eyes and slid down his face.

Yuuri was there in the blink of an eye, crouched by the couch with desperate hands patting Viktor’s face, wiping away the tears one moment and just resting on his neck the next. He looked panicked. There was a murmuring, low and incoherent.

It took Viktor a while to understand that it was Yuuri mumbling apologies under his breath. 

“No, stop, stop that. Don’t.”

He thrust out a hand, almost poking Yuuri in the eye before his fingers slapped over his mouth, blocking the stream of frenzied _sorry_ s. 

“Stop that,” he said again, cupping Yuuri’s cheek.

“But I made you cry.”

Viktor wavered, caught between a smile and a sigh. The latter triumphed.

“Not really. Life made me cry. This whole situation made me cry. I’ve been wanting to cry since Yura showed up two weeks ago.”

“I made it worse.”

“Yeah, well, relationships can’t be perfect all the time.”

This was as close to it as it got, Viktor was sure. He wasn’t giving it up.

“I’m sorry I’m no good at this kind of confrontation,” Yuuri whispered and for a moment, Viktor thought he was talking about the disaster with Yuri before he realized that no, he was referring to their little fight.

And well, Viktor could believe that. Yuuri had been willing enough, though far from enthusiastic, to regale with him tales of his life so far. It was wild and fantastic, often straining credibility, but Yuuri’s ineptitude at interacting with people was a constant theme. He seemed well aware of it too.

Viktor found it amusing for the most part. He was quite fine with how Yuuri handled him.

Except now. Viktor had to wonder if Yuuri even knew why he was so bothered. Having to do that to Yura was only half of the issue.

“You bit him,” Viktor said softly, the accusation slipping out before he could rein it in. “You drank his blood.”

“I know you didn’t want him harmed,” Yuuri replied just as quietly, completely missing the point as he did. “I pushed you into it, I’m sorry, I didn’t think about what that would do to you. I was selfish, Vitya. Please forgi–”

“Stop apologizing,” Viktor said, more sharply than he meant to. “Please. That’s not–you’re not–”

He gave a frustrated groan and sat up in a rush, almost knocking his head against Yuuri who made as if to pull back but was stopped by Viktor’s fingers grabbing hold of his collar and tugging him down. He wound up with Yuuri perched precariously on his lap, further destabilized by Viktor’s palms bracketing his face and pulling it close enough to their noses to touch.

“It was meant to be only _me_ , Yuuri. Now you’re here with another’s blood running through your body. I _hate_ it.”

Yuuri gasped, pupils blowing wide and irises bleeding red.

“But I thought you were angry because he was important to you. Not…”

“Not jealous? How would I not be jealous? I’d just told you that your bite belonged to me. Did you forget, Yuuri?”

Yuuri mutely shook his head, whimpering when Viktor nipped at his upper lip.

He made a starkly different sight from the coolly composed creature that had pinned Yuri to the sand and stole into his mind.

“Make it up to me.”

Viktor could feel the full-body shudder Yuuri gave, an explicit answer that was echoed in a hasty nod. Yuuri tried to get to Viktor’s neck and Viktor felt his skin tingle with anticipation, wanting, _always_ wanting but–

No.

He pulled Yuuri away from his throat, turning the move into a kiss that cut his lips open on Yuuri’s unsheathed fangs. A cool tongue lapped up the blood, closing the skin while sending teasing pleasure tingling along his veins, and Viktor allowed himself a moment to sink into it before standing up, arms still around Yuuri who stumbled but remained upright.

“Not yet. I’m going to fuck you first.”

“Oh. _Oh_ , yes, please, gods, yes.”

It may have been childish to want to exert what essentially amounted to ownership like this. Viktor couldn’t even deny that his guilt about Yuri’s fate was at least currently overshadowed by the pungent irritation at the memory of him losing himself to Yuuri’s fangs.

Yuuri was _his_.

Viktor was content to be owned, his previous life wholeheartedly abandoned to start a new one with this wonderful man who stared at him like he were all the stars in the sky, but if Viktor was Yuuri’s, then all he asked was that Yuuri be his.

Maybe he needed a reminder.

Yuuri clearly wasn’t complaining if the speed with which he made it to the bedroom said anything. He was stepping out of his pants when Viktor got there. The sight hit him like a freight train; Yuuri bare and beautiful, turning to Viktor with sheer anticipation brightening his gaze. It was fully red now, glowing in the pale light of the bulb.

Viktor was on him with the hunger of a starving man, licking into Yuuri’s mouth and sucking on his tongue, both hands wandering on cold, exposed skin.

Except – it wasn’t as cold as it should be.

Viktor was as familiar with Yuuri’s body as he was with his own, maybe more. He knew the normal temperature of Yuuri’s flesh, knew that his mouth and cock and ass was always a little warmer, knew the icy chill he’d emanate when his hunger was at its peak, knew the faint heat that would diffuse his skin in those first few hours after Viktor’s blood was inside him.

That heat was there now, thrumming under Viktor’s fingertips.

But the blood in Yuuri wasn’t Viktor’s.

He growled, a sound as fierce as anything Yuuri ever made, and walked them both towards the mattress, not stopping until Yuuri’s knees hit the edge and buckled, taking them both down in a tangle of limbs. Viktor didn’t stop kissing Yuuri, didn’t stop groping his body as if to physically replace the warmth of Yuri’s blood with his own. Yuuri opened up for him with ragged moans that Viktor swallowed from his mouth, more and more ravenous with each moment that passed.

He broke their kiss to mouth Yuuri’s jaw, harmlessly tonguing the soft skin there for a moment before biting down, teeth clamping down hard enough to indent the flesh.

He drew back just in time to see what should have been a red mark fade as if it never was.

Ah, that was right. Unlike Viktor, Yuuri couldn’t wear the proof of their love on his skin. He’d have to leave his mark in other ways.

He’d leave in deep inside Yuuri, carve it into his soul if he had one, never ever to be forgotten.

“Off,” he said, tugging at Yuuri’s boxers.

“What about you?” Yuuri asked, sliding the offending fabric down his hips and legs. His cock was well on its way to full hardness, the tip of it peeking out of the foreskin. Viktor leaned down the moment the boxers were out of the way for a taste, lapping at the slit. Yuuri was dry, as always, but Viktor was quite content with the way he was. There was something novel even now about how Yuuri’s cock felt in his mouth.

Yuuri made a vague grumbling noise when Viktor released his cock with a last teasing lick.

He left the bed, stripping out of his own clothes with speedy efficiency, and climbed back into Yuuri’s waiting arms, letting himself be pulled into a kiss. Yuuri had a clever tongue and all of Viktor’s secrets, and it threatened to distract him, to make him shudder and sigh and give into Yuuri as he so loved to do. But Yuuri was still flush with borrowed blood, and Viktor wanted to bite into him and make it all spill out.

Instead, he shimmied down Yuuri’s body, pressing a light kiss to the base of his cock as he did. He glanced up to see Yuuri propped on his elbows and watching Viktor with lazy heat.

Viktor grinned, baring his teeth.

“Turn over.”

Yuuri shot a confused look at the bottle of lube which remained on the nightstand but did as asked, shifting on to his hands and knees. Viktor took a moment to appreciate the smooth curve of his ass before grabbing the cheeks and spreading them, exposing his hole. Yuuri made a faint noise that shivered its way down Viktor’s spine, hot and electric.

He licked his lips and dove in.

Yuuri tasted like much of nothing. There was no sweat to lend his skin a layer of salty musk and even his ass, long since freed of its biological purpose, only tasted like clean flesh. Viktor happily buried his face between the plump cheeks and set about eating him out with gusto.

The effect was nearly instantaneous. Viktor felt it in the way Yuuri’s hands gave out, the new angle pushing his ass further towards Viktor. He hummed his approval as he pressed the flat of his tongue along the puckered entrance, rewarding Yuuri’s high-pitched yelp with the slow press of his tongue inside. Yuuri’s body welcomed him easily, opening up so he could massage the insides as best as he could with his tongue. It won him another loud noise, almost a shout, as Yuuri squirmed against his face, almost as if unsure whether to press back or pull away. Viktor just gripped his hips tight and let his mouth do the work, licking and lapping and sucking until spit soaked Yuuri’s hole and Viktor’s jaw started to ache.

Yuuri was muffling cries into his forearm by the time Viktor pulled back. He turned over at the slightest nudge, the knees that had been holding him up collapsing flat on the bed.

Viktor, mouth tingling and jaw sore, just crouched by Yuuri’s feet and drank in the sight of lover reduced to a panting mess with fever-bright eyes.

“Am I the only thing on your mind, Yuuri?”

His answer was in hushed Japanese. Viktor caught the words for _god_ and _you_ and _kill_.

He smiled, pleased.

“I’ll be in your body as well.”

This time, Yuuri just whispered a raspy, desperate plea, spreading his legs for Viktor.

Yuuri was wet enough and loose enough from his mouth for Viktor to slide one finger into him. The lube bottle hit him in the chest with bruising force before it was even all the way in, accompanied by a hissed _More_ courtesy of a very impatient Yuuri. Viktor, not feeling that patient either, complied easily, slathering his fingers generously and pressing in two together, groaning alongside Yuuri as his ass contracted around the digits, trying to suck them inside with vigor. Viktor thrust them in and out quick and hard the way Yuuri liked, eyes set on his slack-jawed face. Yuuri was so expressive like this, each twist and crook of Viktor’s fingers inside him echoed in throaty sounds and tight grins.

Viktor’s own erection throbbed, pleading for the attention it had been denied. He curled his free hand around it, not stroking, just loosely holding, until Yuuri’s moans began to take on a familiar tinge of greed.

He pulled out his fingers, smiling helplessly at the little growl that answered the motion, and quickly lubed his cock. Yuuri eyed him hungrily, spreading his legs wider and lifting his hips in the clearest of invitations.

Viktor pushed inside in a single, slow stroke, Yuuri’s ass closing around his cock with maddening tightness.

“You’re always so–” he grunted, stretching his body over Yuuri’s. Legs wrapped around his back, nudging Viktor deeper into Yuuri and pulling him down closer, driving a breathless cry out of his mouth. Yuuri took his face in both hands and kissed the sound off his lips, tongue dipping in and out of his mouth in a sure imitation of the way Viktor was rocking into him in little, jerky motions.

“You are,” Yuuri told him, punctuating his words with a harsh bite to Viktor’s lower lip that broke no skin but muddled his mind.

“What?”

“The only thing on my mind.”

Viktor shuddered hard, nearly falling on top of Yuuri as his elbows threatened to give way. Yuuri’s legs tightened around him in soundless urging and Viktor instinctively snapped his hips, driving his cock impossibly deep into Yuuri and pulling out just as fast to do it again – and again and again and again, watching in rapture as the last of coherence left Yuuri’s lips, red eyes growing bright and dazed as he threw his head back with broken sounds that each sent little shocks through Viktor.

“Yuuri–I’m close,” he said, the warning falling on deaf years. Yuuri’s feet just dug harder into his ass, keeping Viktor fucking him with growing urgency, the telltale burn in his groin growing with each wet slide of his length along Yuuri’s walls.

“B–bite me. Yuuri, bite me.”

He couldn’t – wouldn’t – forget, even as the pleasure sizzling through his body threatened to erase all thought from his head. It was time to–he had to–

Viktor thrust as deep as he could and stopped, grabbing Yuuri by a fistful of hair and into a sloppy kiss, mouths barely slotting together as Viktor whispered enticements and pleas in between caressing the sharp tips of his fangs with his tongue.

Yuuri let him do as he pleased for a few seconds, mouth open and slack against Viktor’s, and then he _snarled_ , a feral, guttural sound that sent sheer lust tearing through Viktor.

“Fuck,” he rasped, hips stuttering, “Come–”

Yuuri pushed him away with little ceremony and enough force to topple Viktor to the side of the bed, a startled shout escaping him at being so suddenly bereft. But Yuuri didn’t leave him lost for long, climbing on Viktor with a ferocious expression that had him arching his back and baring his neck, begging without words. Yuuri sank down on his cock with a swiftness that tore a scream from Viktor. Yuuri rode him without mercy, Viktor’s scrabbling nails leaving red trails on his hips and legs that vanished as soon as they formed, his voice quivering and breaking as he shouted warnings that went ignored.

Yuuri’s eyes met and held his, crimson and consuming, as he held himself above Viktor’s cock, only the head still in him.

“Come for me,” Yuuri ordered, reverberant, and slammed his hips down.

Viktor, denial lost in the swirling red-black of Yuuri’s gaze, came. His cock twitched and pulsed, dripping heat into Yuuri’s cold body. His vision fractured into dazzling white, taking with it his final thought.

_Compulsion’s not fair._

Yuuri’s teeth was on his neck before Viktor could come down from his high, sharp and sleek as they pierced deep and withdrew, replaced by slick lips that closed around the bleeding wounds with relentless suction. Viktor jerked, hands twisting on the sheets, as pleasure so steep he could drown it in ripped through his body, outright assaulting his spent cock, still half inside Yuuri. It jerked fruitlessly with the excess stimulation, his hips stuttering as he fucked helplessly into Yuuri, whimpering at the pain-edged pleasure.

It felt like Yuuri was drinking in his soul, pulling Viktor deep into himself.

Yuuri sucked harder, teeth scarping the wound, and Viktor felt his vision go dark.

He came to in Yuuri’s arms, face tucked into his neck, and their legs pressed together. Viktor mindlessly let his hands wander, down Yuuri’s back and to his ass. His hole was still leaking Viktor’s come. He couldn’t have been out for long then.

Viktor tried to speak, but his voice caught. He was shivering ever so slightly. His neck throbbed something fierce.

It was the most relaxing thing he’d felt.

“Did–” he tried again, swallowing around the scratchiness in his throat. “Did you finish? Yuuri?”

Gentle fingers carded through his hair and slid down his face, gripping his chin and tilting it so he could look Yuuri in the face. A relaxed smile met him, small and sweet around the edges.

“Of course. You always satisfy me, Vityenka.”

The reassurance loosened a knot in Viktor’s chest that he hadn’t even known was there.

He nuzzled into Yuuri’s hand on his face, acutely aware of how easy it would be to sink into the exhaustion clawing at his mind and body both, and just sleep with Yuuri looking after him.

The memories of Yuri, belligerent first and then bespelled, flashed through his head.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Viktor mumbled, feeling his ears warm.

Yuuri just looked surprised.

“Why are you apologizing? It was justified.”

Viktor shook his head slowly, wistfully eyeing the crook of Yuuri’s neck, perfect for hiding.

“It wasn’t solely your fault. And I shouldn’t have shouted anyway.” He remembered the way Yuuri had looked and sounded so small, so lost. “I–I’m sorry.”

“Ah, no, Vitya, you don’t – I’m no saint, alright? I know what I did, I know why you were angry. It’s fine. I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

“You already did. A lot.”

“And you told me to stop. Now, you should stop.”

Viktor nodded, smiling a little when Yuuri dropped a quick kiss on his forehead. They were silent for a while, Viktor absently running his hands up and down Yuuri’s back while Yuuri played with his hair. It was getting long, having grown past his chin, well past the length Viktor would have cut it. He hadn’t cared for a while and now that he was starting, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“Would you like it if I grew my hair out, Yuuri?”

“I’d love you if you were bald,” Yuuri replied in utter seriousness. A beat passed. Viktor gazed with wide eyes as a light pink blush spread across Yuuri’s cheeks and the bridge of his nose. _Viktor’s blood_ brought that flush to his skin.

He slid his hand to the back of Yuuri’s head and tugged him down, kissing him soft and slow, smiling wide at the residual tang of copper on his tongue.

“It’d look nice,” Yuuri murmured, still pink-faced, and fingered the edges of Viktor’s hair.

“It doesn’t grow as fast as it used to.”

“There’s no hurry, is there? We have time.”

For so long, those same words had brought nothing but joy to Viktor, but now they made dread pool in his gut, thick and insidious.

“Do we?”

Yuuri frowned in obvious confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“We can’t–Hasetsu’s not–you always act like we’ll always be together but I don’t–” Viktor forced his mouth shut, ceasing the insensible snippets of phrases. He took a deep breath, Yuuri’s perplexed, slightly scared eyes watching him all the while. “I don’t know, Yuuri, if I can hold on to this peace I’ve found if we leave here.”

Yuuri was silent for a long – too long – time. Viktor stopped watching his face after the first tense seconds and just stared at his collarbone.

“Vitya, I don’t understand. Are you…saying you wouldn’t want to be with me if we’re not here?”

“No!” Viktor denied, snapping his eyes back to Yuuri whose expression had taken an ominous cast. “No, no, never. I want you always, _lyubimiy_. I suppose I’m just scared.”

“Oh.” Yuuri was still frowning but the edge it had earlier vanished, leaving behind only concern. “But we don’t have to really leave. Yuri Plisetsky will remember none of this evening; not finding you nor anything that followed.”

“That’s–wait, what about the picture? On his phone–”

“Mm, I saw. I deleted it before I dropped it. And I’ve suggested that he catch the earliest flight to Russia. Usually, when I tell my victims to go home, it’s a matter of walking or catching a cab. This is a somewhat extreme case. I’m not sure how effective it will be. Still, I’ll be very surprised if he stays in Hasetsu for more than a few days.”

The beginnings of hope fluttered in Viktor’s chest and died just as swiftly.

“It’s still no use. Yakov knows I’m in Japan. With the media circus around Yuri, he’ll know of Hasetsu. That man is smart enough to put it together.”

“That doesn’t mean he has proof that you’re here, especially with Yuri’s memories altered.”

Viktor didn’t really want to think about Yuri and his altered memories.

“Maybe. But once he finds why Yuri came here, there’s a chance Yakov will look for me himself. I didn’t tell you, but his most recent messages have been…pushy. He’s worried. I know that. I just don’t want to go back. He won’t understand, just like Yura didn’t.”

“Oh, Vitya.”

Yuuri hugged him tighter and Viktor returned it with equal force, wishing not for the first time that he could melt into Yuuri and hide in him forever.

“You know he might not find you even if he comes here, right? We could be more careful.”

It was tempting. So tempting, but–

“I can’t–Yuuri, I can’t go through that again. Yura was enough. I just want to feel safe like I used to.”

He hadn’t been feeling safe since Yuuri had told him Yuri was here. That weekend had been fine. Afterwards, not so much. He had tried to hide it, sometimes even from himself. He’d thought Yuuri knew and was letting Viktor cope as he wished. He’d appreciated that. Now, though, he couldn’t make believe any longer.

“And I fear I won’t feel safe even if we leave.”

Yuuri was silent, just stroking Viktor’s hair, as if sensing that Viktor had more to say and needed time to make the words come.

“I’m at peace with you. You’re…you’re home. But there’s a world out there that I’ve been hiding from for so long. I don’t want anything to do with it, and I just don’t know if I can keep doing that if we leave Hasetsu.”

He finished in a rush, almost panting as everything tumbled gracelessly from his lips. To think he was once seen as eloquent.

That was it though. He didn’t want to be _seen_ anymore, not by anyone but Yuuri.

“Vitya, I…I worry too,” Yuuri finally said, a note of embarrassment in his voice. “About serious things like how we’ll stay anonymous if we leave and also really silly things – like if you’ll tire of me and what I am and try to leave.”

“You’re right, that is very silly.”

Yuuri smiled, so sweet that Viktor had to return it.

“It’s fine to worry. But we can’t really know the future, can we? Leaving or staying. We don’t know how either of that will turn out. All I know is I want to be with you, that I want you happy. If being here doesn’t make you happy anymore, then we’ll fly out the day the papers are here. If wherever we end up isn’t good enough, we’ll leave again. We’ll scour every corner of the world until we find a place to call our own. And you – I’ll protect you, Vitya. Even if you hate my methods for it, I’ll do it. Anything to keep you with me.”

Viktor gaped, reeling from mood whiplash.

“How–” he asked once he found his voice. “–can you be wise and sweet and cheesy and creepy in the same breath?”

Yuuri appeared nonplussed, then thoughtful, and finally just shrugged.

“The wisdom may be the inevitable consequence of my age. The rest is just…me?”

“You’re lucky I love you.”

Yuuri’s expression softened, the adoration etched on each line of his face making Viktor’s face burn.

“I am.”

“I am too,” he mumbled, worries all forgotten for an instant.

They returned soon enough.

“We’re really leaving then,” he mused, forlorn. “This is my fault, you know. I messed up. If I’d just announced that I was taking a vacation, the media and my fans wouldn’t be so invested. It’s the silence on my part that made this into a mystery. The world would have forgotten me easier if I’d made this more uninteresting.”

“No.”

The harshness in Yuuri’s voice made Viktor open his eyes and stare, right into a vehement gaze that seemed to strip away the layers to his soul.

Viktor was suddenly reminded of the exact circumstances – those he never let himself think about – that had led Yuuri to him.

“They have no right to you. Not the world, not your fans. You’re a person, Vitya. Your own person. Not some pretty, people-pleasing machine. Fuck all of them.”

Viktor was startled into a chuckle which grew into a laugh, loud and incredulous. There were tears beading at the corners of his eyes when he was done, and he’d barely regained his breath when he threw himself into a fierce kiss, their lips crashing together with no finesse and then gentling, hands on each other’s faces as they kissed and soothed hurts old and new.

“Thank you,” Viktor whispered between breaths. “I love you.”

 

* * *

 

Yuri left Hasetsu after two days.

Yuuri quit his job on the same day.

Yuuko, he told Viktor, had been understanding but disappointed that Yuuri was leaving Hasetsu for good. Yuuri seemed to think it was just impersonal concern over losing her employee, but Viktor thought it was more likely that she saw him as a friend. They had a standing invitation to dinner that would never be accepted, mostly because Viktor knew his flimsy disguise wouldn’t stand against a hardcore fan. And Yuuri wouldn’t go on his own; he’d become even clingier than Viktor after the incident with Yuri. Viktor wasn’t complaining. He found it hard to be without Yuuri as well – those two days had been bad enough.

He stopped leaving the house as well, at first claiming that some of the press might be lingering in Hasetsu.

Then, as days and almost a week passed, and he still didn’t step out of the house except for morning runs, Yuuri called him out on it, knowing and fond.

He said Viktor was becoming as paranoid as he was. Viktor didn’t think it was that bad, but he wasn’t sure if he had room to talk when the very notion of venturing into the town made him feel nauseous, the reluctance worse than anything he’d felt during his early days with Yuuri.

Detroit would be better.

It had been Phichit who talked them into choosing America, particularly Michigan. He and Celestino lived there, Phichit running some kind of business that doubled as a hangout for supernatural creatures, and Celestino working for a magazine while also doing werewolf things.

Viktor hadn’t asked what supernatural creatures and werewolf things entailed. He didn’t really want to know, even though he’d find out eventually. He had enough on his plate for the moment.

Yakov had taken to calling him. Each one went unanswered and his increasingly angry texts were answered with noncommittal replies that only seemed to make him angrier. Honestly, it was a small miracle that he’d been so calm until now. It made sense that Yuri’s stint in Hasetsu and empty-handed return would be the things that triggered him into more typical behavior.

It hurt a little to know that Viktor was making them worry and would only cause more of it.

But it was unthinkable to even consider going back or even facing them.

He would, one day, when he could think of a dark, hopeless night and the empty days preceding it without feeling bile churn in his gut. That day was nowhere near close.

Viktor wasn’t idle during his last days in Hasetsu. Accepting he would have to leave had been hard but once he had, taking action had come naturally. He wasn’t sure if Yakov or Yuri or someone else would declare him missing and cause a ruckus. He wanted to take precautions just in case, and Yuuri agreed that it was better to act in advance.

Managing his finances, shifting the considerable money he’d accumulated during his career to discreet accounts that Yuuri, of all people, helped set up was sufficiently engaging in the days he spent waiting for their papers to arrive.

Then there was the sex. That was always very, _very_ engaging.

Anything involving Yuuri was time well spent actually. He questioned Viktor sometimes about doubts and hang-ups, but he could say each time without fail that Yuuri was all the surety he needed.

It always made his lover smile – and blush if he had enough of Viktor’s blood in him.

He never managed to ask the same back, afraid of the answer and angry at himself for being afraid.

That came to a head a little over two weeks after Yuri’s departure. Their fake identities had arrived, IDs and passports featuring Viktor in his brown-wigged self and the ridiculous name Yuuri had picked for him. Yuuri retained his given name and his appearance, but the slicked-hair, bespectacled getup was as devastating in the photo as it had been the time Viktor had been blessed enough to witness him go through the makeover.

That occasion had led to him being bent over the couch.

This one turned out to be far less racy.

With the papers real and solid in his grasp, Viktor had to face that their leaving was a close certainty than a distant eventuality.

And he was ready, almost eager, to bid goodbye to the hot springs and ninja castles he could no longer bring himself to visit. Now if only he could say the same about Yuuri who had left this evening for Yu-topia to get some katsudon for Viktor. His own idea, not that Viktor was complaining.

When he returned a few hours later, it was with a smug grin that almost drove the thought of the papers from Viktor’s mind.

Yuuri spoke before he could ask.

“I got rid of that picture. It was Daiki who took it. What a coincidence.”

“Who’s Daiki?” Viktor asked automatically. “What picture?”

“The guy I was eating when you walked in on me. And our picture. The one Yuri used to find you.”

Oh. Viktor didn’t know how he felt about Yuuri interacting with that…that boy. He didn’t like it.

“It was a good picture,” he said instead. “How’d you delete it?”

“Snuck into his room while he slept and went through his phone. It didn’t have a password so that was easy enough. I would have sent it to mine first if I knew you wanted to keep it?”

Viktor waved it off, trying not to show how happy he was to hear Yuuri hadn’t even talked to him. He was sure he failed, judging by the way Yuuri’s grin widened. He wanted to ask how Yuuri had found it in the first place, but that could wait.

“That’s good. And we can take more pictures. I think half my phone memory is our selfies or pictures of you anyway.”

He winked at Yuuri, only half his heart in it. And maybe it showed because Yuuri was beside him in a flash, setting aside the food and plopping down on the couch beside Viktor, turned attentively towards him.

“Is something wrong?

“No – well, no. They’re here, our papers. We can leave any time.”

“That’s…good,” Yuuri said cautiously, absently stroking the back of Viktor’s hand. “Isn’t it? Have you changed your mind?”

“It’s the thirty-sixth time you’re asking me that, Yuuri. No, I haven’t.” This was it. No more excuses. Viktor took a deep breath and asked the question he’d been dreading ever since he conceived it. “Do you?”

“Hm? What?”

“Leaving here. Do _you_ mind?”

Yuuri just looked confused and not like he’d been caught hiding concerns he shouldn’t be hiding. That was probably good?

“Are you asking me if I have issues leaving Hasetsu?”

“Yes.”

“Kinda late to ask, Vitya.”

Yuuri’s tone was mild and joking. Viktor looked down at his feet, ashamed. Yakov had always called him selfish.

“…Yes.”

“Um, that’s not – Vitya? Have you been beating yourself up over this all this time?”

“Only once it occurred to me that you’re uprooting your life for a man you’ve only known for a few months.”

Viktor thought it said something about him that it took a while for it to actually occur to him. Yuuri, though, just chuckled and stole a kiss that startled Viktor into looking up at his face.

“I don’t have roots, Vitya. I was here for less than two years before you came. That’s nothing to me. The value of the days spent here with you outweighs the boredom of the time prior to that by a huge margin. I would have left in a month or two anyway. I get bored of places easily.”

It was a little strange to hear that, probably because Hasetsu and Yuuri were so entwined in Viktor’s mind. But Yuuri, with his soft face and sweet smiles that hid the danger inside, had always existed more on the periphery of this quiet town, much like Viktor himself. Perhaps he didn’t mind leaving any more than Viktor.

Come to think of it, Yuuri had been the one to suggest leaving in the first place.

It seemed that worrying did unflattering things to Viktor’s reasoning capacity. Though to be fair, his relationship with things like logic and common sense were practically nonexistent whenever it involved Yuuri.

“I’m glad,” he simply said, pecking Yuuri lightly on the lips.

They settled back against the couch, Viktor’s head on Yuuri’s shoulder as the latter went through the papers that proclaimed them Mr. and Mr. Okukawa.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings for this chapter:** Nonconsensual Blood Drinking, Mind Invasion, Memory Manipulation. None of this is between Viktor and Yuuri, but whether that makes it any better is for you to decide. Let’s just say that shit gets fucked up.
> 
>  
> 
> To those wondering why Yuuri was able to mind-screw Yuri while he couldn’t Viktor – Viktor was with him constantly for weeks before he found out, but Yuri only spent a few hours with him for a few days. Well, that and also Yuuri underestimates himself. And later chapters will show, the process wasn’t quite perfect, just enough to get the job one.


	13. we dance in dark suspension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor adjusts. Yuuri watches, careful, cautious, clueless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, I wonder if having Viktor declare his undying love to Yuuri and fucking elope with him after a little over 3 months of knowing him is unrealistic BUT THEN I REMEMEBER that this is the man who canonically turned his life on its head for a guy who drunkenly grinded on him, didn’t contact him for months, and then unknowingly threw him a bone.

Yuuri was starting to have doubts.

Regret wasn’t an emotion that was completely unfamiliar to him. He’d fucked up in life often enough that he’d spent long nights and days going over each and every step he could have taken to prevent a particular outcome. The thing was that most of those were about events whose significance declined dramatically once he put enough time and distance between them and himself. An ill-advised lay, an accidental provocation, an unfulfilling hunt, and many things that his role as an Enforcer threw into his path. In many ways, none of them really even mattered except in the immediacy of his emotions regarding them.

This was different.

This was Viktor.

Yuuri wasn’t used to his actions having consequences that would last his entire existence. He was pretty out of his depth.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, with Yuri waving around a phone and Viktor on the verge of panic, to interfere and do the one thing that could guarantee help. Compulsion wasn’t good for much except scrambling the minds of humans post-feeding, but it excelled in that one purpose and Yuri, unlike Viktor, didn’t have constant exposure to Yuuri to make his memories completely immune.

The process hadn’t been perfect. Yuuri was sure of that even though he hadn’t told Viktor. Yuri was unlikely to truly forget Yuuri and the beach and all encompassing fear, but Viktor at least had been banished from his mind and the whole event made confusing enough for the last compelling order to hold.

_Go home, Yuri._

It had worked. Yuri had left. Surely that had been the better option. Viktor himself had chosen.

Viktor had also chosen to leave Hasetsu, a decision Yuuri had wholeheartedly accepted because he didn’t trust that Yuri wouldn’t return with Viktor’s old coach and make more of a mess than what one vampire could handle. And the covetous, insatiable part of himself that yearned for Viktor even when he was under his fingertips had rejoiced in his human’s choice to eschew his old life and flee with Yuuri. It was like he was saying, with words and actions both, that he was Yuuri’s, wholly and eternally.

That remained the same even now, two weeks into their stay in Detroit.

But Viktor wasn’t quite the same as he had been in Hasetsu. Yuuri hadn’t quite realized how much Viktor had changed from the quiet, sluggish man he had been in the beginning to someone brighter and happier, with a spark in his eyes that would have had Yuuri composing poems if he were capable of anything other than doggerel. Now that spark wasn’t exactly gone but it had dimmed considerably.

Things were different now.

Viktor no longer ran in the mornings, no matter how sweetly Yuuri coaxed and cajoled, no matter how well black-dyed hair would mask his identity in the open. His sleep schedule, which had settled into a nice eight hours at night and a nap while Yuuri worked, had devolved into an irregular mess that jetlag could no longer excuse.

At least he still smiled and laughed and ate and kissed the sense out of Yuuri.

As if sensing he was haunting Yuuri’s thoughts, Viktor shifted, still sound asleep as he wriggled and draped himself over Yuuri like a heated blanket. He was naked unlike Yuuri who’d changed into a pair of boxers before bed. He loved to hold and watch Viktor as he slept but doing it while they were both naked would give his dick some unfortunate ideas.

“Yuuri…” came a drowsy murmur and Yuuri snapped his eyes to where Viktor lay cheek-down on his chest. His eyes were closed, his breathing even. Just sleep talk then.

It was so cute though.

He raised a hand and very gently laid it on top of Viktor’s head, sliding fingers through his hair in a way that won him a soft sigh. Viktor’s hair, dyed a nice blue-black, was the shade of midnight in the darkness. He was beautiful in it as he would be beautiful in anything, but Yuuri often missed the gleaming silver of the original shade. Judging by the way Viktor would sometimes scowl at the mirror, he felt the same.

It was not permanent, but it would last a while; an extra caution advocated by Phichit and reluctantly accepted by Viktor.

Speaking of Phichit, he and Viktor seemed to get along fine. He’d greeted them at the airport and drove them all the way to their new apartment, chosen by Phichit and approved by Viktor and Yuuri both. He had stayed until night and then left them be, perhaps sensing that the two of them needed time to adjust. But he texted and called not only Yuuri but Viktor, and the latter seemed to be fond of his new friend.

Phichit had always been good at charming people. Yuuri himself had been victim to that. He was also glad that Viktor had something other than just Yuuri to distract him from everything that had happened and anything that could happen.

Viktor still texted his old coach and that Swiss friend of his, but they were apparently growing impatient about his vague replies and refusal to confirm anything about his life except that he was alive. His fans, despite all these months of his continued absence, were still quite active. And maybe they would eventually quiet down as Viktor kept insisting, but the people he’d left behind, like Yuri, probably wouldn’t. But their confusion and grief didn’t matter to Yuuri. If what Viktor wanted to do was disappear, then Yuuri would support him all the way through.

O course, Viktor didn’t seem sure yet. He sometimes said he’d visit them when he was ready, any anxiety this might rouse in Yuuri doused by the way Viktor made it clear that they would be going together, but that always sounded like an eventuality that might just remain an idea.

Yuuri didn’t fully understand what led Viktor to these decisions. But there were a lot of things he didn’t know about Viktor, things a few months of constant companionship and conversation and _love_ wouldn’t magically make clear.

He hoped, though, that Viktor would share them one day.

“We’ll be fine, right, Vitya?” Yuuri whispered, grip unwittingly tightening in Viktor’s hair. He let go just as swiftly, but one of Viktor’s eyes blinked open, blearily meeting Yuuri’s.

He stared back, frozen with an apology on his tongue, but Viktor just smiled faintly and squirmed his way up Yuuri’s body, pushing his face against his neck and promptly returning to sleep.

Yuuri settled a palm of the small of Viktor’s back and listened to the quiet thudding of his heart.

 

* * *

 

 Yuuri smelled Viktor before he heard him, a floral flood that almost but not quite hid the far more delicious scent underneath. It would have smelled perfectly pleasant to a human, Yuuri was sure, but he had to exert all his willpower not to wrinkle his nose.

“Hey,” he said instead, looking up from his phone at Viktor, his rigid smile softening at the sight of him in a fluffy white bathrobe, head covered by yet another towel, this one black to better hide any smudges his dye would leave. The robe gaped generously over Viktor’s chest, exposing red-dotted white that Yuuri wanted to lick all over.

Familiar desires. The world would end, and Katsuki Yuuri would still want Viktor Nikiforov.

“Hey yourself,” Viktor replied, coming to stand in front of Yuuri. He wrapped his arms around Viktor’s waist, phone abandoned, and pressed his face to the first patch of skin he could reach. Viktor hissed.

“You’re cold, Yuuri.”

Yet his fingers wove firmly into Yuuri’s hair, keeping his face right there.

“And you’re warm,” Yuuri muttered nonsensically, rubbing his face against Viktor and further unraveling the robe. The hot shower had lent some extra warmth to Viktor’s body that was dissipating quickly but felt scalding to Yuuri while it lasted. He was getting hungry and it showed in his skin. He sighed, nosing his way down Viktor’s stomach, smiling at shiver it elicited.

“Who was– _ah_ , tickles–on the phone when I was showering?”

Yuuri stopped debating whether or not to lick Viktor’s belly button and drew back, looking up to see Viktor’s face.

“Phichit. He wants to know if he and Celestino can come over this Sunday. I said I’d ask you.”

Surprise flashed across Viktor’s face, gone before Yuuri could figure out if it was about the concept of entertaining guests or Yuuri asking him permission.

“I–sure.”

“Are you? There’s no rush. Phichit will understand.”

There it was again, that startled, almost dazed, widening of his eyes, followed this time by a smile so bright that Yuuri was the one left stunned.

“Yes,” Viktor told him, soft and certain. “It’s just–I’m still working on wrapping my head around the fact that we can, uh, that don’t need to hide like in Hasetsu.”

Yuuri reached up to touch Viktor’s mouth, fingers tracing plump pink lips before sliding down to curl around the side of his neck. He felt and heard Viktor’s sigh.

“We weren’t really hiding. I’d say we were quite shameless when we went out. But…none of them knew the truth, did they? I know what you mean.”

Viktor smiled, light red dusting his cheeks.

“It’s just those two though,” Yuuri felt the need to add. “For now. I don’t have many friends. But Phichit would be happy to introduce you to people, trustworthy ones, if you’d like.”

“Oh, Yuuri, no. That they are your friends is half the appeal for me. And really, my love, do you want to see me go parade around with a bunch of strangers?”

Honestly? _Hell no_. It must have showed on his face because Viktor started giggling, face scrunching up cutely.

“I’m not that bad!” Lies and they knew it.

“ _Lapushka_ , you’ve been holed up in here for over two weeks because you don’t want us to be separated. Forgive me if I can’t quite see you standing by idly as I go and socialize.”

Yuuri made a vague squeaking noise and hid his face against Viktor’s torso, as much out of the bombardment of endearments as the very true dirt he was throwing on Yuuri’s character. He neatly ignored the latter to focus on how he should never have asked Viktor what all the random Russian he called Yuuri meant because his life had been much easier when they remained random Russian rather than _darling_ s and _love_ s and _sweetheart_ s. The one time he’d said as much, Viktor had given him an incredulous look and said, _But you call me those all the time, you–you hypocrite!_

His mental escape to much lighter, less embarrassing things was stopped short by Viktor laughing hard enough to dislodge Yuuri’s face from its fleshy cushion.

Viktor had backed up a step and was doubled over, one hand covering his mouth while he laughed. His face was screwed up, and he was making little snorting noises. It was probably objectively unattractive.

Yuuri could only look and sigh, smitten.

This man was beautiful.

Viktor soon calmed himself and sat on the bed beside Yuuri, bathrobe open all the way down to his waist. The black towel had fallen to the floor during the laughing fit. Viktor put his arm around Yuuri’s back, hot even through his shirt, and leaned against him. Whatever expression he saw on Yuuri’s face made him chuckle again, biting his lip endearingly.

“Shut up,” Yuuri grumbled. “I wouldn’t mind that much. I know that you’d return to me.”

Viktor would. He knew, and he still looked at Viktor for confirmation which he gave without missing a beat.

“Yes. Always. It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m in no mood for people. Except you of course!”

“Then about Phichit and Cele–”

“No, no, they’re fine. That’s not what I meant. I like Phichit, and I am interested in meeting his husband. But parties and large groups and the like? I’d say I’ve had my fill for a lifetime.”

“We’ll wait till after one then,” Yuuri assured.

Viktor gave him an odd look but smiled immediately after, darting forward to kiss Yuuri on the nose. Yuuri caught his face in his hands and kissed him properly, taking Viktor’s lower lip into his mouth and sucking until he could taste the blood rushing to the surface. His palm wandered down Viktor’s neck and shoulder, ending up flat against one firm pectoral. Viktor’s nipple was already hard, and Yuuri caught it between two of his fingers, squeezing lightly and swallowing the gasp it drew.

It was Viktor who pulled back, lips wet and eyes hooded as he stared at Yuuri from inches away.

This was good. They were out of sorts in some ways but this – this was good. Their bodies were in sync and their words, when they chose to use them, reached the other.

“I adore you,” Yuuri murmured, not used even now to declaring such things out loud. But knowing that Viktor loved to hear them made them fall from his lips like offerings.

And sure enough, Viktor’s whole face lit up, a slow brightening that left him radiant. Yuuri could go blind looking at him.

He straightened from where he had been leaning towards Viktor, even scooting away towards the foot of the bed lest he press Viktor to the mattress and do unmentionable things to him. Viktor didn’t seem to appreciate his restraint if the pouting was any indication.

Yuuri’s traitorous eyes kept abandoning Viktor’s face to trail between the edges of his robe.

“We should get you clothes. Some that fit properly.”

They’d each brought what they had in Hasetsu with them. But most of Yuuri’s were ratty T-shirts, and Viktor’s own outfits were low in number thanks to the little he’d packed for his impromptu departure from Russia.

“Why?” Viktor questioned as Yuuri had known he would. “I like wearing yours.”

Specifically, he liked prancing around in Yuuri’s oversized shirts with nothing at all under them. They all barely fell to Viktor’s thighs and even the slightest bend or bow would make them ride up and reveal things that invariably pulled Yuuri’s attention from whatever inconsequential thing he was engaged in.

Yeah, he liked Viktor in his clothes too.

“Me too. You know it. Gods know you take advantage of it often enough. But we should probably get you something more, uh, appropriate if we’re to ever go out.”

Viktor hummed noncommittally, leaning back on his hands. More of his skin was exposed. Yuuri could see a hint of the thatch of silver hair at his groin. He crossed his legs, swallowing hard.

“Should we, Y _uu_ ri? You make it sound like we’ll be going out a lot.”

The irony wasn’t lost on Yuuri. They had barely stepped outside the apartment since they moved in. They knew no one who lived in the same building. That was the usual case with Yuuri and by the way Viktor seemed unbothered, he garnered it wasn’t much different there, profession related mingling aside. Yuuri was the one doing even grocery shopping and he could barely tell ripe fruits from overripe ones.

“If you want?” he finally replied. “I thought–now that you’re not–well, I figured we could go out. Dates and stuff. You liked those.” Then, lower, “I did too.”

His gaze, which had decided that the bit of Viktor’s pubic hair was the best place to linger on while he blurted these things, shot back up to be met with a smile that didn’t seem to know whether to be amused or touched.

The latter won in the end, sending more color to Viktor’s cheeks.

He didn’t say anything, just reached for Yuuri with an earnest, vulnerable expression that had him reaching back without a thought, drawing his legs up to crawl over the short distance between them. Viktor kissed him the second he was within reach, mouth parting sweet and eager against his. Yuuri slid his tongue into that inviting heat, wishing yet again for a taste but satisfied all the same with the sounds Viktor made when Yuuri licked light and teasing at the roof of his mouth. He let his wands wander freely down the fluffy robe, messily undoing the sash to let it fall all the way open. He didn’t get to look with Viktor keeping his face and lips captive, but he did run his fingers down that tempting patch of hair and down to the prize waiting below them.

Viktor was only half-hard, cock resting against his thigh. Yuuri kissed him deeper and took him in his hands and almost bit his tongue off when Viktor drew back with a muffled, laughing curse.

Yuuri blinked, confused, before looking down at Viktor’s dick in his fist.

“Ah. Too cold?”

They didn’t usually have this problem; Viktor had got used to Yuuri’s temperature long ago. But his sensitivity from his shower and Yuuri’s hunger-induced chill weren’t that great a combination.

Viktor, still looking torn between outrage and laughter, opened his mouth and closed it without a word. Yuuri let go of him as if burned, but that seemed no better because Viktor just whined, catching Yuuri’s hand before it could retreat. He kept hold of it as he swung his legs on to the bed, pressing them together and promptly leading Yuuri’s hand to the tight space between his thighs.

“It’s fine,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “I’ll warm you up.”

A strangled sound escaped Yuuri; obvious agreement. Viktor was hot, in more ways than one, and Yuuri could feel it seep into his skin through a layer of fabric as he laid himself atop him, gently nibbling his jaw and neck, leaving behind little marks that would fade faster than their usual ones. His hand remained between Viktor’s thighs, enjoying the warm smoothness of them but still itching to touch what he really wanted to. Viktor’s hands were on Yuuri’s back, slipping under his shirt to scratch blunt nails up his spine, making him shiver and suck hard at the pulse racing under his lips.

“Touch me,” Viktor said on the tail end of a moan, legs squeezing Yuuri’s hand in counterpoint to his words.

Yuuri extracted his hand and did as asked, taking hold of the base of Viktor’s cock. He waited but the only reaction was a stuttering sigh and the slight jerk of Viktor’s hips so he continued, pumping his hand along Viktor’s length until it filled and hardened. Yuuri tucked his face against Viktor’s neck and explored, lightly fingering the veins and ridges that had already become familiar but still gave him a rush of joy to find and touch. He kept it up, unwittingly a tease, until sliding his thumb along the wetness at the tip made Viktor buck his hips hard, almost making Yuuri let him go.

“You ass,” came the admonishment, paired with nails biting into his back.

Yuuri swallowed an insincere apology and shifted so he was lying beside Viktor, head propped on his free hand to better see as he jerked Viktor off with renewed vigor. He didn’t go too fast, something about the sight of Viktor’s pretty flushed cock in his grasp making him set a steady pace that let him watch and savor each gleaming drop of precome and each aborted twitch of Viktor’s legs.

Viktor’s hands, displaced from Yuuri’s body, lay clenched on his stomach until eventually, one unfurled and reached down, intending to join Yuuri’s.

“Shh, no. Let me, Vitya.”

Viktor groaned deep in his throat, tearing his eyes off his cock to push his face against Yuuri’s chest, panting hot against the fabric.

“Cruel,” he mumbled, the last sound almost lost in a gasp as Yuuri slipped a finger under his foreskin.

“Come on,” Viktor pleaded once he caught his breath, tilting his face for a kiss that Yuuri happily gave him, eyes open to watch Viktor’s flutter shut when their lips met and moved together.

“Faster,” Viktor keened against Yuuri’s mouth. “Please, Yuuri. Make me come.”

And, well, it would be rude to deny when he asked so sweetly, right?

Yuuri stroked Viktor faster, drinking in the sounds that were pulled from him with hungry lips. It didn’t take long, not with Viktor being worked up from the slow teasing and Yuuri using just the right tricks to make him loose it. Viktor spilled into Yuuri’s hand and over his own legs with a shudder and a shout, breaking their kiss to ride his climax. Yuuri kept stroking him through the thick wetness, spreading it all over Viktor’s cock until he started trying to twist away from the touch.

He stopped, gaze flicking between Viktor’s spent cock and slack face, until darkened blue eyes opened, made all the more beautiful by the lazy, sated smile that stole across his lips.

Yuuri silently raised his come-stained hand to Viktor whose tongue flicked out to taste as soon as it was in reach. He sucked Yuuri’s fingers in one by one, licking off the come and leaving them wet with spit. Yuuri’s erection, unobtrusive until this point, seemed reluctant to remain so now that Viktor had taken his pleasure. He squirmed a bit as Viktor nibbled and laved at his ring finger with clever tongue and teeth, trying to awkwardly maneuver his other hand down to his cock.

Viktor released his finger with a filthy pop and caught the hand that had been trying to push Yuuri’s pants down. He shed his bathrobe fully and moved to straddle Yuuri, leaning down to kiss him.

“Yuuri,” Viktor breathed when they parted. “I’m–I–you know–”

Yuuri waited, expectant, but Viktor only bit his lips, eyes flicking down before they returned to meet Yuuri’s with a strange fire in them.

“I love you.”

Another kiss blocked any reply Yuuri could have made, but he poured his joy into the kiss, pressing it to Viktor’s lips with sweet nips of teeth. Viktor was breathing hard again when he drew away from the kiss and settled himself between Yuuri’s legs. His pants and underwear were pulled down just enough to expose his cock, fully hard and begging for touch.

“My turn,” Viktor said, winking, and Yuuri could only watch with cold air caught in his throat as Viktor bent and took his cock into his mouth.

 

* * *

 

“You know you don’t need to do this,” Yuuri said for what might be the eleventh time, and it was one time too many probably on the second try, but Viktor was a saint and only sighed heavily as he continued to knead the dough.

His back muscles rippled.

Yuuri bit back another whimper.

“Yuuri, I told you,” Viktor told him, exasperation in every syllable. “I want to be a good host to your friends. And they’re already bringing dinner so this is the least I can do.”

 _This_ was pirozhki with jam and apple fillings that Viktor was determined to make as dessert for Phichit and Celestino’s visit tomorrow. Yuuri had been sent out with a carefully penned list as soon as the sun had eased its assault. He’d dutifully bought everything and came home to Viktor passed out in front of their TV while some loud film played on. He hadn’t had the heart to wake him. That had earned him a disappointed frown once Viktor woke and now found them in the kitchen at midnight, Yuuri hovering uselessly while Viktor wrestled the dough into submission.

It wasn’t like he didn’t appreciate what Viktor was doing. Phichit and Celestino certainly would. But Viktor, as always, had no grasp of kitchen etiquette. Neither did Yuuri to be fair, but he was sure his didn’t include cooking without a shirt and in Viktor’s preferred form of underwear – a flimsy thong. And an apron – mustn’t forget the apron; Yuuri had picked it out after all.

It was pale pink with tiny black dogs on it; not poodles, but still dogs. The back-up option in case Viktor couldn’t handle it was a standard black ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron, lip print included, that Yuuri had hoped would drag out a smile from potential dog-induced sorrow. It hadn’t been needed. Viktor had accepted the dog print one with a wide, heart-shaped smile.

The problem was that Yuuri still very much wanted to kiss the cook. And maybe bite him. And also fuck him.

All of which were fine! Viktor would usually let him. But when he tried sneaking up behind Viktor not far into his late night cooking session, he’d been given a smiling kiss and then unceremoniously pushed away with a flour-stained palm.

There was still flour on his face because Yuuri couldn’t manage to make himself look away from the straining muscles of Viktor’s neck and back long enough to walk to the sink.

“Yuuuuuuriiiii,” Viktor sing-songed, making Yuuri jump and freeze in rapid succession. “I can feel you staring at my throat.”

“I–well–that’s–I mean–”

 _I’m hungry_ , he finished in the safety of his mind. _And horny_.

Then Viktor turned to look at him, blue eyes twinkling, and Yuuri realized his thoughts weren’t as safe as he believed.

“No touching,” Viktor warned gravely. “I’ll finish these tonight or die trying.”

Yuuri thought the point of Viktor doing this now was that he could try again tomorrow if these got messed up, but Viktor’s sternly determined face did not welcome such a response. So he nodded and tried to keep his eyes on appropriate places when Viktor turned back to the dough. He failed epically once the kneading resumed.

“You don’t need to stay you know,” Viktor said after a few minutes, making Yuuri’s gaze guiltily return to the back of his head. His hair was now long enough to be gathered back and pinned. It was adorable.

“I want to,” he replied, honest. “I could…help? You can just tell me what to do.”

“What a novelty. It’s usually the other way around,” came the response, superbly unhelpful in distracting Yuuri from his friend down below. “I’m almost done with the dough. We need to let it rise for an hour. You can help me with the dishes.”

Viktor stopped working the dough after a couple more minutes, stretching with a groan that once again sent Yuuri’s mind skittering to the gutter. Granted, all Viktor usually needed to do to get him going was _breathe_ but this was a whole new level of it. Yuuri knew why too. The last time he’d fed properly was in Hasetsu and even the little nibbles they usually snuck in between had been somewhat infrequent due to the stress accompanying their hasty move to Detroit. He was perched precariously on the edge of frenzy.

And to make it all worse, his time with Viktor had inexorable tied feeding with sex to the point that Yuuri could no longer think of the rush of Viktor’s blood on his tongue without getting hard.

It was like he was finally starting to understand what the humans he fed on felt.

Viktor put the dough in the oven and they cleaned up in companionable silence. Yuuri even managed to not peek at Viktor every other second. It was more like every thirty seconds. Improvement.

“Now we wait,” Viktor declared once they were done, shedding the apron and neatly folding it before placing it on the counter. Then he turned and practically twirled his way into Yuuri’s arms.

“Hello!”

Yuuri stared, boner forgotten in the wake of Viktor’s brilliant smile.

“Hi…”

Viktor leaned down to brush his nose against Yuuri’s.

“Are you hungry, my Yuuri?”

“You know I am.”

“Mm. I kept waiting for you to ask. But you never did.”

Yuuri swallowed, acutely aware of the burn in his throat.

“You were settling in. I didn’t want to bother you.”

Viktor’s wide smile gentled into one smaller and warmer that made Yuuri’s chest ache in a bizarrely pleasant way.

“I’m fine now. I’m ready.”

It would have been easy to accept it and lead Viktor to the bedroom for what they both wanted. Yuuri opened his mouth to do just that but what came out was something else entirely.

“Are you really?”

Viktor blinked, taken aback, and would have stepped away were it not for Yuuri’s arms firm on his back.

“Are you happy here, Vitya?” Yuuri asked again, feeling a little like a fool. Viktor had been smiling so beautifully. He had looked happy. But there were moments, amidst the kisses and conversations, that made him wonder.

Viktor didn’t respond immediately, eyes oddly distant for all that they never looked away from Yuuri. Then he blinked and the smile that had vanished returned in full force. It wasn’t fake. Yuuri could tell.

“You make me very happy, Yuuri.”

That wasn’t precisely what he’d asked, but Viktor said it so surely, like he was positive it was all the answer he needed, and Yuuri couldn’t make himself ruin the moment.

He was glad too. He wanted to make Viktor happy forever.

Yuuri kissed him, out of words, Viktor grinned against his mouth, pressing his mostly bare body even more closely to Yuuri’s. It was at times like this that Yuuri wondered if Viktor’s increasing displays of nudity were somehow meant to entice Yuuri into adopting the same because right now, he could think of nothing more frustrating than the layers of cloth that separated his skin from Viktor’s.

“Bedroom,” he made himself say, breaking the kiss just as Viktor tried to deepen it.

“As you wish,” Viktor said and detached himself from Yuuri, striding out of the kitchen with an extra sway to his hips.

Yuuri, parched and wanting, helplessly watched him go and then followed.

 

* * *

 

Viktor had an impressive necklace of bruises the next day, each one settling into a nice plum color by evening. He didn’t have any turtlenecks. Yuuri kicked the two he had into the depths of the closet and claimed the same.

With Viktor’s blood filling his body, his blush must have been evident but his lover only smirked and tilted his throat proudly.

It was a mark of ownership so blatant as to surpass the antics of even the most territorial of werewolves. Yuuri really hadn’t thought he was that kind of guy. Apparently, his relationship with Viktor brought out more of his sides than he knew existed.

And naturally, the first thing Phichit did once he came through their door and caught sight of Viktor, standing beside Yuuri with white button-up that didn’t nearly hide everything, was burst into laughter. Celestino followed him in with a confused expression that quickly morphed into scandalized shock when he saw Viktor. It lasted only a moment before amusement replaced it. His gaze slid to Yuuri, one thick eyebrow raised. Yuuri shrugged, not quite able to help a sheepish smile.

“Ciao ciao, Yuuri,” he greeted. Phichit was too busy laughing to talk. “And you must be Viktor!”

Viktor smiled graciously and extended his hand towards Celestino who extracted one of his from the pot he was holding and shook it with enough enthusiasm to make Viktor stumble forward a step. Yuuri steadied him with a hand and then backed away, making way for them all to come into the living room. Viktor and Celestino followed readily but Phichit took his time. He was still chuckling and shooting glances at Viktor’s neck when he joined them. There was a plastic container and a little black bag in his hands, both of which had somehow survived his earlier hysteria.

None of them spoke much as the guests set the food down on the dining table. They returned to the living room, supposedly for small talk.

Yuuri hovered by the couch, Viktor back by his side, as Phichit and Celestino did the same a few feet away.

This was…really very awkward. He didn’t know what he was expecting. Come to think of it, this was his first time actually entertaining guests. His and Phichit’s typical routine whenever they were in the same area was to show up unannounced at each other’s place and catch up and do whatever stupid things that came to mind. Celestino would join them sometimes; now and then, he reminisced about his and Yuuri’s old days, other times, he just drank too much and passed out while Phichit drew on his face and Yuuri watched.

There was a distinct casualness to all those times that was conspicuously lacking at the moment. Yuuri could see Viktor shift subtly from foot to foot. His own hands kept clenching and unclenching by his sides.

It wasn’t much of a surprise that Phichit was the one to break the ice.

Of course Phichit wouldn’t be Phichit without his characteristic flair. Yuuri admired that about him most of the time, less so when it meant he was tackled with a hug that sent them crashing to the couch in a tangle of limbs.

Phichit, for all that he looked pretty and delicate, was a werewolf and _strong_. A knobby elbow drove into Yuuri’s stomach and the air left his lungs in a choked gasp.

“Oops, sorry,” Phichit apologized, grinning. “I missed you, Yuuri!”

“You saw me less than a month ago,” he replied, pushing Phichit off. “We talked on Friday.

Phichit flopped on the couch for a moment and then sat up, still smiling widely. But Yuuri was looking at Viktor who was gazing at the two of them with a tight little smile. Phichit must have seen it too because the next moment, he got up and took Viktor by the arm to push him down beside Yuuri. He then sat back down on the other end of the couch, turned towards them both.

Sometime between all this, Celestino had disappeared. Yuuri could hear him in the kitchen.

“Where is Mr. Cialdini?” Viktor asked, sitting stiffly on the couch and looking around. Yuuri put an arm around him, ignoring the look Phichit gave him.

“No need be so formal, Viktor. I’m sure he won’t mind if you call him Celestino. And he’s doing some last minute modifications to the food.”

Viktor nodded, leaning more into Yuuri. It was unclear whether it was on purpose but some of the tension left both their bodies with the contact so Yuuri only pulled him closer.

“I see you two have been having fun,” Phichit quipped, very deliberately eyeing Viktor’s neck. “Enjoying Detroit, Viktor?”

“Well, I can’t comment on the weather but as you said, we’ve been having _fun_.”

There was not even the barest hint of red on Viktor’s face and his arm snaked around Yuuri’s waist, the two of them all but melded together. Phichit eye’s had widened in delight and his hands kept twitching towards his pocket.

Yuuri usually went decades between seeing Phichit in the flesh, but their last meet-up had been shortly before his vacation in Japan. It had lasted around a month, more than long enough for Yuuri to become intimately familiar with all the ways Phichit liked to abuse his smartphone.

“No pictures,” Yuuri said firmly. Phichit’s right hand quickly darted out of his jeans. Viktor made a vaguely questioning noise.

“But Yuuri! You two are adorable. This needs to be immortalized.”

“Maybe after you get over your social media obsession,” Yuuri shot back, then explained to Viktor. “Phichit here is a little too taken with modern technology. Bet you an arm that if he takes that picture, it’ll end up on Instagram.”

“Excuse you, I have more control than that.”

“I’d hope so,” Viktor said, “I really can’t afford being on the internet right now.”

“I don’t understand it at all,” Yuuri voiced an old lament. Phichit rolled his eyes before he’d even finished. “No, really, Phichit. What happens when years pass and you’re still like this? You can’t just start another account. What if someone finds you? You know they say nothing on the internet ever goes away!”

“You’re a paranoid old man, Katsuki.”

He was literally the oldest in this house. He was about to say as much when Viktor spoke up, confusion furrowing his brows as he looked between Yuuri and Phichit.

“I never really thought about that. Yuuri did say modern technology was getting dangerous.”

“Of course he’d say that.”

“It’s true!”

“ _Paranoid_.”

Well, yes, but that didn’t make his concerns any less valid. Not that arguing against Phichit ever got him anywhere. Yuuri just sighed and sank against the arm of the couch, Viktor automatically following the movement.

“Don’t let him worry you, Viktor,” Phichit was saying. “It’s true none of us can get away with our shit as easily as in the past but the situation isn’t that dire. Besides, I have my sources.”

Phichit winked, Viktor giggled, and even Yuuri had to smile because, yes, he could believe that.

Not that it’d stop Yuuri from hunting Phichit down just to say _I told you so_ when the humans started actively hunting them down with their freaky weaponry. Discretion was important damn it.

“I’m curious, Phichit,” Viktor said, cutting short Yuuri’s musings of a possible dystopia. “How old are you?”

Phichit gasped like the dramatic minx he was.

“Rude, Nikiforov, to ask a lady’s age!”

“You’re…not a lady?”

“Sometimes, I am,” Phichit said with a wink.

Viktor appeared surprised for a moment before he smiled and nodded.

“Fair enough.”

“Since I’m magnanimous–” Yuuri snorted “–Shut your trap, Katsuki. Anyway, I’ll answer you, Viktor.”

“You might know this but while Yuuri’s kind are practically immortal. Our people–shape-shifters–just live for a long time. Less than five hundred years is the norm. I’m pretty young in that regard, only recently passed hundred, but my mate’s got a few decades on me. We both have quite a lot of time left as long as we don’t get tangled in some fight we can’t win.”

“Oh,” was all Viktor said in response. He leaned back on the couch, a finger lightly tapping his lips as he lost himself in his thoughts. Yuuri watched him curiously, wondering what he was thinking. He had told Viktor most of this, except Phichit’s exact age, back when he had interrogated Yuuri about shape-shifters. His reaction then had been more fascination than the pensiveness of now.

Celestino chose that moment to join them, his hair, which had been unbound when he arrived, gathered into a low ponytail.

“Dinner’s ready, boys. I hope you like Italian, Viktor.”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

Viktor smiled, all hints of his earlier melancholia gone. Celestino’s own smile widened in response.

“I’ve got something for you too, Yuuri,” Phichit announced, flitting away into the kitchen, Celestino trailing after him.

“Vitya, is everything alright?”

Viktor blinked, something strange flashing through his face as he turned to Yuuri. He pressed closer and Yuuri took advantage of the temporary privacy to press a tender kiss to Viktor’s forehead.

“I’m fine,” Viktor told him, quiet and thoughtful. “It’s just…been a while, you know? Since I talked to other people like this. It’s not bad.”

Yuuri wasn’t sure if Viktor was referring to any kind of interaction or the more pleasant kind which would exclude the fiasco with Yuri Plisetsky. Either way, it was nice to know Viktor was comfortable with this.

“I’m glad.” He kissed Viktor again, this time on the tip of his nose. It blushed bright under his lips. “Let’s go, love. Celestino is a good cook, or so Phichit tells me. And then you can show off your pirozhki.”

They held hands as they left the couch and joined the other two in the kitchen. Celestino had helped himself to their sparse tableware and was arranging things while Phichit stood by the kitchen counter with his hands behind his back and a grin that spelled trouble.

“I know you can’t eat with us, Yuuri, but we didn’t want you to feel left out.”

He was curious in spite of his healthy caution, but it was Viktor who quirked his head and asked what it was.

“I have this friend who’s a nurse. And he was kind enough to get something for me.”

With that, Phichit revealed what he had been hiding with a grand flourish. It took Yuuri a moment to realize what the red plastic was.

Blood bags. Phichit had got him _blood_.

Viktor’s blood running through him felt far too warm all of a sudden. Viktor’s hands tightened around Yuuri’s.

Uh-oh.

“Ah, no–” Yuuri started, too little and too late.

“I’m sorry, Phichit, but Yuuri won’t be needing that.”

The pressure of Viktor’s grip had reached the point where it was starting to hurt. Yuuri focused on the feeling of his bones grinding together and very carefully did not look anyone in the eye. He was fairly sure he was blushing. He was absolutely certain he was grinning.

Viktor’s words seemed to ring in the silence of the room. Yuuri wasn’t much of an exhibitionist; otherwise he’d be so hard right now.

Well, maybe he was a little hard.

He had to admire Viktor’s restraint too. He hadn’t even said that Yuuri needed no one but him.

Celestino was the first to recover, clearing his throat rather loudly. Yuuri made himself look and found him staring intently at an invisible spot on the fridge.

“Let’s eat, yes. Except Yuuri. I think.”

“Yes,” Yuuri confirmed. He felt Viktor relax a bit.

He looked at Phichit and found him staring at them with his hands covering his gaping mouth. The blood bags were still in his clutch, making for a very odd sight.

“Wow,” Phichit murmured once he managed to get his shock under control. “You guys really are perfect for each other.”

Yuuri turned to look at Viktor and found him blushing a very vivid red that only enhanced the purely gorgeous determination in his expression. He never once took his eyes off Phichit.

Yuuri was…ridiculously in love. And falling more every moment.

“Hello?” Celestino called plaintively. “Dinner?”

 

* * *

 

“I am so embarrassed!”

“Why? They loved your pirozhki.”

Viktor just made a wounded noise and redoubled his attempt to be one with the ground. Literally. He was stretched out face-down on the living room floor and Yuuri was torn between concern and amusement. When Viktor showed no sign of ceasing his dramatics, Yuuri sat down beside him, dutifully patting his back while holding back laughter.

“It’s okay, Vitya. They’ve both seen worse.”

At that, Viktor deigned to turn over, draping one arm over his forehead as he did. He was comical and endearing, and Yuuri couldn’t resist the urge to lean down and peck him on the lips.

When he straightened, those same lips had curved into a pout, paired with accusing blue eyes.

Viktor had been remarkably casual all through dinner and the awkwardness of the blood bag affair had dissipated as the three of them dug into the food with Yuuri watching, eyes lingering more often than not on the bite marks on Viktor’s neck. Phichit had noticed and kept throwing him wicked smiles whenever Viktor’s attention was otherwise engaged but apart from that, the rest of the evening had been perfectly innocuous.

But then the guests had left, and Yuuri could only watch in mild alarm as Viktor calmly threw himself on the floor.

“I figure we’re even,” Yuuri offered when Viktor’s pout showed no signs of abating and was in fact descending into a wholly pitiful expression that was only half manufactured. “I left your neck mangled and you made it clear that you liked the mangling. It’s a balanced relationship and they saw that.”

Somehow, that didn’t seem to help.

“But Yuuri, that’s not the point. I was rude to your friend! You _know_ I wanted to be a good host.”

Oh.

“I…thought you were embarrassed about the whole biting affair.”

Viktor pretended to think for a moment.

“Nah. I’m not ashamed of that. The opposite, really. But Phichit was being so considerate and well…”

Yuuri suspected that any offence Phichit might have taken from Viktor’s blunt refusal was easily superseded by unholy glee at the reason behind said refusal. They weren’t going to live it down for the next century.

But maybe he shouldn’t scare Viktor with that just yet.

“Vitya, trust me. I really don’t think he minds.”

Viktor still seemed unsatisfied so Yuuri decided to bring out the big guns.

“Are you saying I should have accepted the blood then? I admit, stored blood isn’t my favorite, but in a pinch–”

As expected, that had the desired reaction. Soon, Yuuri was the one with his back to the floor, pinned there by Viktor’s weight.

“We’re not having this conversation again, Katsuki Yuuri.”

“Never worry, you’re the only one I want.”

Viktor’s countenance darkened in what Yuuri feared to be the recollection of the Yuri incident but it cleared after a few seconds. He huffed and rolled off Yuuri who missed the contact but followed Viktor into a sitting position. Yuuri scooted so his back was against the couch and patted his thighs, which was all the invitation Viktor needed to lay his head in his lap, the rest of him curled into a fetal position. Yuuri couldn’t see his face clearly, hidden as it was by most of his hair and Viktor’s attempt to burrow into Yuuri’s stomach.

Yuuri played with Viktor’s hair, trying to surreptitiously determine if the dye job had roughened its texture. It didn’t seem like it. Viktor had insisted on a high-end brand to prevent any damage and it seemed to have done its job. It was a little unfair how Viktor could look so pretty with black hair and still make Yuuri yearn for the return of its natural shade.

Then again, he was fairly confident that Viktor could color his hair bright orange and still have Yuuri drooling after him.

They stayed like that in easy silence for long enough that Yuuri suspected Viktor was falling asleep. He didn’t want to wake him, but Viktor himself had admitted that his chosen career hadn’t been kind on his bones and that too much time on the cold floor might cause him pain later. But he needn’t have worried. At the first touch and whisper of his name, Viktor shifted enough to look up at Yuuri, brushing hair off his face with a light smile.

“We should get up.”

“Don’t wanna move.”

That could be remedied easily. And it was also probably what Viktor was aiming for judging by his delighted peal of laughter when Yuuri scooped him up and carried him to their bed, almost tripping over his own feet when Viktor distracted him with a kiss halfway there. But they made in to their room without mishaps, and Yuuri dropped Viktor on the bed less gently than he could have in admonishment. That earned him more laughter, Viktor harmlessly bouncing on the bed before splaying himself in the middle of it, face flushed and lovely as he stared up at Yuuri.

Yuuri climbed in and sat cross-legged beside him, his own face split in a grin he couldn’t contain if he wanted to.

“Embarrassment aside, did you enjoy tonight?”

“Oh, yes. Phichit is very easy to like. I didn’t know what to expect of Celestino. He looks so grave, but he’s very pleasant, isn’t he? Laughs a lot, smiles a lot, and talks through it all. They’re an interesting couple.”

Yuuri couldn’t remember Phichit and Celestino saying more than a few words to each other in the span of their evening, most of their attention having been focused on Yuuri and Viktor. But it was still blindingly obvious that they were together, a certain indescribable quality to the empty spaces between them that spoke of all the years they’d loved. Yuuri didn’t remember when he’d first noticed that, but he wasn’t the most attentive when it came to these things.

“I’m glad, Vitya. And yeah, they are. I admit I didn’t expect anything of the sort when they first met. I was there. Now, I can’t imagine anything else.”

“Sounds like there’s an interesting story there? Can you share?”

Yuuri considered it for a moment but saw no harm in sharing what little he knew.

“Sure. I can’t tell you how their relationship developed since I wasn’t present for it and long-distance communication wasn’t this efficient back then.” That was probably good since Yuuri was certain Phichit would have found a way to bombard him with whatever seduction games he planned and _make him respond_. “I met Celestino first. He was born a werewolf and a rogue – I did tell you about werewolves preferring to live in packs, didn’t I?”

Viktor, having rolled onto his front and listening with his chin in his hands, nodded eagerly.

“Yes, well, some don’t. It’s usually temporary but that was what Celestino was when we met. I was in Thailand on the whole Enforcer thing and looking into some killings that seemed to be the work of my kind. Celestino was doing the same except that he thought it was werewolves doing it. We, well, it’s not accurate to say we teamed up. He offered, I declined, but we still ended up investigating together–that word seems too fancy for something that basically involved us sniffing around like a pair of dogs but anyway, we just kind of tolerated each other while we did pretty much the same thing in the same area. Strangest partnership of my life. Sorry, I’m rambling.”

Viktor offered no response except the considerable force of his attentiveness. Yuuri cleared his throat.

“When we found the culprits, it turned out to be a werewolf _and_ a vampire. Both freshly turned and siblings too. I still don’t have any idea how that came about. These things just happen to me, Vitya. Anyway, they attacked us, naturally, we fought back, and since Celestino and I had age and experience on our side, we won fairly easily. I’ll…spare you the details.   There was another smell though and we tracked it to a barn with a human bleeding out inside. Celestino was adamant we save him. I didn’t care, but Celestino did help me out during that fight so I was willing to go along with it. But the human was beyond normal aid and to get him to live, one of us had to change him. You know how I am about blood? Well, I was worse in those days and wouldn’t have managed to turn someone without killing them, especially when I was messed up from a fight. Plus I didn’t want to deal with a fledgling so I just stood guard while Celestino did his thing. I somehow got roped into staying until Phichit woke up–he was the human, I’m sure you guessed. And he kinda…latched on to me? I don’t really get it.”

Viktor had been growing more and more wide-eyed as Yuuri spoke but at the last part, his stunned expression vanished and he started snickering, burying his face in his hands.

“It’s not funny,” Yuuri protested without feeling, his own mouth twitching. “I was so confused, Vitya! He kept talking to me. I tried everything. I pretended I didn’t know Thai. I even tried to scare him off. Even said I hadn’t done a thing to help him while he was dying, which is actually true.”

“It was no use?” Viktor asked, voice thick with suppressed laughter.

“Clearly not. The three of us travelled together for some time. Turned out the rest of his family had been killed by those two so he had nowhere to go. He adjusted well to his wolf and he and Celestino were basically a two-man pack. I left them eventually though Phichit made sure I could contact them if I wished. I didn’t plan to at first but–” But there had been – still was – something about Phichit that drew people, even those as inept at relationships as Yuuri. “I found myself paying a visit once or twice a decade. Somewhere between the fourth and fifth ones, Phichit and Celestino were mated. Then they ended up in a pack, and I tried to withdraw but communication technology kept improving by leaps and bounds and suddenly, it was so much easier to keep in touch. So I did. Not nearly as much as Phichit would like but more than I ever bothered before.”

Except with Minako but that was a tale for another time.

“There you go. It’s not that great a story but…”

“Are you kidding?” Viktor almost yelled, sitting up. “Yuuri, that sounds like something out of a book! You had such an adventurous life.”

Yuuri opened his mouth to refute that, to say he just had a lot of time and very little luck, but Viktor’s eyes held a spark of wonder and a hint of fear, and Yuuri was reminded of the way he had felt years and years ago when faced with a would much larger than anything he’d imagined.

One day…one day, they could–

“I didn’t always want adventure,” Yuuri confessed, helplessly moving closer to Viktor. “But sometimes–a lot of times–it was all that kept me going.”

Viktor was quiet but his eyes were soft as they held Yuuri’s, his fingers gentle as they crept over his to trail warmth along his skin.

Yuuri sank into ocean blues and didn’t resurface until Viktor spoke again, a second or an hour later.

“Do they have a pack now? Phichit and Celestino?”

“Ah, yes. There’s one here, with most of the wolves in this area. I’m sure we’ll meet them if we take Phichit’s job offers.”

“You haven’t before?”

“No, vampires and shape-shifters aren’t usually on the friendliest terms. Werewolves are the most common of the latter, and it’s pretty rare to see our kinds mingling. Didn’t I tell you once that everyone thinks it’s weird that my best friend is a werewolf?”

Viktor nodded slowly and it was clear to Yuuri that there was something else on his mind. Viktor spoke before he could ask.

“Those offers, what are they?”

Yuuri frowned, trying to remember if he’d told Viktor. He was sure he had back in Hasetsu, right after Phichit proposed the idea. Maybe Viktor just forgot. He’d had a lot on his mind those days.

“Phichit owns a bookstore that’s also popular among Others in the locale. He also works as a freelance photographer – you should see his work, it’s great. And back when we decided to come here, he said he’d let us manage the bookstore if we wanted since he wants to focus more on his photography.”

“Oh. Okay.” Viktor was oddly quiet. “How long does the offer last?”

“I’m not sure. He didn’t say anything.”

“It’s for both of us?”

“Yes. Vitya, you okay?”

“When are we starting?” Viktor asked, ignoring the query.

“That, well, whenever you want.”

“Oh,” Viktor said simply. Then, faintly, he added, “You were waiting for me.”

Yuuri was more than a little confused but then again, he’d thought Viktor remembered the work option and was just taking the time to get used this place first.

“We don’t have to, Vitya. It’s not–”

“No! No. I want to, I do. I’m sorry I–”

Yuuri waited for elaboration or even for that pinched look on Viktor’s face to vanish, but he was only given a lopsided smile before Viktor crawled to the head of the mattress and collapsed, turned away from Yuuri. He hesitated for a whole minute but received no response. He placed his hand on Viktor’s hips and when he didn’t reject the touch, moved to lie behind Viktor, spooning him tightly like he liked.

He heard the softest of sighs.

“Vityenka?”

Another sigh, shifting halfway into something rougher.

“I’ve been so selfish, Yuuri. I’m sorry.”

As usual, Yuuri had no idea what to say and as usual, he couldn’t let that stop him. He found Viktor’s hand with his own and intertwined their fingers. Viktor’s were slack in his for a too-long second before they returned the gentle pressure.

“Why is it that we’ve been apologizing so much lately?” Yuuri muttered, half to himself, not missing the quiet chuckle it got out of Viktor. “Vitya, do you want to talk about it?”

He didn’t always. Yuuri wasn’t too different in that regard so he understood, but it was also true that sometimes, they did need to talk.

He didn’t know which this was.

Viktor didn’t say anything for a long time, but his breathing remained too irregular for sleep and his hand never released Yuuri’s. He didn’t know if he should speak or not, but Viktor certainly wasn’t going to, and it didn’t seem right to end the day on a vague apology.

“Vitya, I–I don’t really know what to do. I’m sorry I’m useless like this, but I’ll always listen. You know that, don’t you? I’ll try to–”

Yuuri paused. To _what_? He’d long since proved himself phenomenally incapable of doing anything but googling frantically or standing around pathetically whenever Viktor chose to share his distress. What could he do?

No wonder Viktor wasn’t keen on telling him anything since there was no use–

Viktor suddenly lifted their joined arms to press a kiss to the back of Yuuri’s hand. His lips were wet.

“I like that,” Viktor said, so quietly that the words were little more than a breathy whisper. He got louder as he spoke. “It makes you a little less perfect, a little more real in those moments where I wonder if you’re truly here or all this is a dream I’m having as I drow–” Viktor cut off. Yuuri knew what he’d been going to say, knew what he’d never say, and didn’t push. After a short pause, Viktor continued. “I’m the same, you know. No good with people crying around me. My first fumbling attempt at a relationship ended when he said I didn’t have any emotions and threw flowers I bought him at my face. I was seventeen. I never really got any better.”

Yuuri muffled an inappropriate snort against Viktor’s hair.

“You have emotions,” Yuuri murmured, just loud enough to be heard. He brought their joined hands to rest over Viktor’s heart. “I feel them every day.”

Viktor sniffed, concern balling tight in Yuuri’s chest at the sound.

“Vit–”

“It’s okay, I’m okay. I love you.”

There wasn’t anything he could say to that except parrot the sentiment, imbued with as much sincerity as he could muster, which was a whole lot more than what he’d believed himself capable of mere months ago.

“I won’t apologize again,” Viktor told him. “Even though I’ve been–it must be irritating.”

And now, Yuuri was lost.

“Vitya, I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

More silence, briefer this time, and then Viktor let go of his hand, turning around to face Yuuri. He didn’t get to see his face for more than an instant before it was tucked into the hollow of Yuuri’s neck.

“I’ve been down lately, haven’t I?” Viktor asked, breath brushing Yuuri’s skin. “Lying around doing nothing, refusing to go out, generally being of no use. Even you must have run out of patience sometime in the last weeks.”

“No, no, I really didn’t,” Yuuri answered, shocked. Viktor didn’t seem to hear him.

“I’m sor–oh, I said I wouldn’t. Still. I was adjusting, Yuuri. Everything’s different. Not the land. I’m used to flying all over the place. But I always had a home, if only in name, and I was only just getting used to calling Hasetsu that when all this happened. I know, I know, I shouldn’t let it get to me but I–I promise I’ll be better.”

It took Yuuri almost a minute to find his voice. Viktor was silent as a stone, but he could hear his heart pound, too loud, too fast. It was no surprise that Yuuri’s first word out was a furious denial.

“ _No!_ Vitya, that’s ridiculous, why would you think that?” He tried, gently, to get Viktor to look at him. He resisted at first but gave in with a sigh, pulling away enough for Yuuri to see his face. There were dried tear tracks on his cheeks and a suspicious flush. He offered Yuuri a wobbly smile. “You aren’t _any_ of that. No one would say you don’t have a right to be upset. The only person you need to be better for is yourself. All I want is for you to be happy.”

“Of course you’d say that,” was all Viktor said, smile growing crooked.

“Don’t you believe me?”

“I do. Of course I–you’re always good to me, Yuuri. You say you don’t know what to do but always, you’re…” Viktor paused, mouth parted and eyes downcast. “I wonder, when I let myself, if anything could make you leave me.”

It wasn’t quite a question. Yuuri still had an answer.

“No. Nothing.”

“You can’t know that.”

Yuuri had to fight back a growl of pure frustration and he failed, at least to some extent, because wariness crept into Viktor’s gaze.

“You don’t understand, Vitya. I couldn’t let you go if you wished it. Remember when you found me with that human? Remember everything I said? I threatened you to make you stay with me when you were only a curiosity, though a lovely one. You’re so much more now. I’m in love with you. I’ve never felt anything like this before. Never will again because all I want is you. I told you this. I told you what it meant when I called you my mate. You can’t just–don’t doubt that.”

Viktor was silent for a long time, expression unreadable.

“Are you saying you’ll love me forever?”

There was something in Viktor’s voice, a tinge of an emotion Yuuri couldn’t decipher. It nagged at him, but he didn’t let that delay his answer.

“Yes. Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Viktor closed his eyes.

“Okay. Okay, Yuuri.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE HAVE ART. Tumblr user enulib [ drew a lovely, blood-splattered Yuuri here.](https://voxofthevoid.tumblr.com/post/168383232211/enulib-pic-entirely-inspired-from-midnight.)
> 
> In other news, I find cannot write Celestino to save my life.
> 
> I don’t know why I always end up portraying Viktor’s most fraught emotional moments from Yuuri’s point of view. But this one, at least, will be continued next chapter. Let’s just say running off with Yuuri is making Viktor question…certain things. I’m not subtle, I know.


	14. beautiful and terrifying, lit and restless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor settles into his new life, but his thoughts are restless and the last thing he needs is another unexpected visitor who shakes him to the core.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of things first:  
> 1\. Midnight Lover is finished. It’s not fully posted yet of course, but I’m done writing it. We’re looking at 23 chapters and around 218k in total, plus two long one-shots. I’ll keep posting as per schedule; now you have the promise that this will not get abandoned.
> 
> 2\. When I asked you what I should write next back in ch7, the majority of you voted for the Demon Hunter Viktor fic. And I’m working on that, even got a rough first chapter. Those of you who’re interested can either subscribe to me, or just keep an eye on my account.
> 
>  
> 
> **Note the new tags, guys.**

How long was forever?

Viktor was aware, uncomfortably so, that the matter of Yuuri’s immortality was one that he should have thought about in great deal a long time before this. He hadn’t, not since the first shock of Yuuri blurting out _four hundred years_ like it was nothing had passed. There had always been better, more worthwhile things to consider, each of them orbiting around the blazing star that was Viktor’s love for the man who brought him back to life.

That Yuuri was immortal and Viktor was not had never seemed to matter.

Or maybe it had, and Viktor had just buried his head in the sand. He was good at that.

In all honesty, he would prefer not to care. It had been easy in Hasetsu, where the days had been quiet and endless, and Viktor didn’t need to think about anything other than the next moment with Yuuri, and the next and the next and the million thereafter.

Detroit didn’t give him that luxury. Their life together was just as quiet within the confines of their nice little flat but there was no glittering ocean beyond the windows and the errant breeze didn’t smell of brine. The noises were all wrong. Familiar, from his old life, but wrong.

They weren’t in their safe little bubble anymore.

Maybe Yuuri had never been; Hasetsu had been just a vacation to him after all. And while Viktor believed wholeheartedly that he was not _just_ anything to Yuuri, he was also starting to question what he really meant in the grand scheme of things to a creature that would live on long after Viktor was ash and dust.

Will Yuuri even remember him, let alone love him, forever as he’d so freely claimed? Or would Viktor be forgotten like the human family that had long since faded from Yuuri’s mind?

He didn’t know what was worse; that Yuuri would love dead man for the rest of his existence or that he’d forget Viktor as he’d invariably forgotten the many others who’d crossed his path.

Viktor was willing to admit, if only within his own head, that he would prefer the former. To be loved so violently and completely wasn’t something he’d ever dreamed of having until Yuuri showed up and offered him a million mundane miracles. He wanted it desperately.

And Yuuri had said he would, had promised forever, and Viktor trusted Yuuri.

It was hard though, to stand here surrounded by beings that he hadn’t even known existed until some months ago, to see Yuuri echo their surreal quality, and still think himself important enough to hold his attention for years and decades and centuries and maybe millennia.

Yuuri seemed _more_ here.

It wasn’t their first visit to Phichit’s bookstore. They’d come four days ago, right after Viktor had been informed of Phichit’s offer, among other things. That had been during the day, with the light mild enough for Yuuri to venture out. Then, Scrolls & Scripts had been just another bookstore, a cozy and contained space with an eclectic collection of books that had made Viktor’s inner bibliophile crow in glee. Yuuri had seemed just as charmed.

Viktor had been ready to accept the job then and there, his willingness equally prompted by his love for the shop’s ambience as by the need to finally do something productive.

But Phichit had insisted they return again tonight, and they had agreed, both of them confused and curious.

Well, it made sense now.

Viktor did remember being told that Phichit’s business was also intended to be a haven for this area’s supernatural population. He’d failed to see that translating into the drastic transformation of a typical bookstore into…whatever this was.

It wasn’t like the place had turned into some wild party bar. A door at the back had opened up into a larger room, but it was mostly just people lounging around in the numerous chairs and divans, meeting and talking and keeping each other supplied with drinks from the vending machines. The books were left well alone. There seemed to be no alcohol.

It should have been an innocuous gathering.

It wasn’t.

Viktor stepped surreptitiously closer to Yuuri when someone with _wings_ walked by them, turning their head to give Viktor a suggestive smile that he once would have returned without a second thought. Now though, he was a little too alarmed by the four pairs of eyes their on their face to even twitch his lips.

“Faerie,” Yuuri said, winding an arm around Viktor’s waist and pulling him close. “There aren’t many in these parts.”

Viktor only made a sound that could be interpreted as anything from acceptance to agreement to _I really have no idea what’s happening please help_.

Yuuri didn’t notice.

In fact, he seemed to be barely paying attention to anything, even Viktor. He didn’t mingle with the rest, instead leaning against the wall a few feet from the door, Viktor a faithful barnacle by his side. But it was obvious from the instant they’d stepped into the door that Yuuri belonged here in a way he never quite had in the bright, warm halls of Yu-topia Katsuki. It was as if being in such close proximity to others like him had stripped him bare of even the last veneer of humanity. His eyes glared red at nothing and everything. Viktor, pressed tight to his side, couldn’t feel him breathe.

It wasn’t anything Viktor hadn’t seen before. There was a difference however between Yuuri cutting loose with only Viktor and the walls as his witness, and Yuuri exposing himself in a crowded room with countless eyes on him.

Viktor thought he could be excused for letting doubts get the best of him when Yuuri suddenly didn’t seem like _his_ Yuuri.

But that was an issue for another time. Viktor wasn’t dead yet, and he wasn’t so old that would repulse Yuuri – beautiful and perpetually young – either.

Unfortunately, that didn’t magically leave him without any concerns.

“Yuuri?” Viktor asked, voice a hushed whisper that seemed necessary despite the loudness of the room’s occupants. “Why are so many of them staring at you?”

Viktor looked away from the amber eyes of a middle-aged man and at Yuuri, right in time to see the grimace that crossed his lips.

“This is a werewolf-run establishment. And while it’s intended to be a safe space for anyone Other, it’s likely that a vampire hasn’t visited before.”

“Oh.”

Viktor was certain no one should have been able to hear their muttered conversation but at least four of the closest heads turned to them, their expressions ranging from mild smiles to deep scowls. One, a woman with bright red hair, was looking at Viktor. He smiled back, tight and cold.

“Seems they’re looking at you too,” Yuuri said from beside him, the irritation lacing his voice echoed in the way his arm tightened around Viktor.

“I can’t imagine why.”

“Humans are likely rare during these gatherings too. And you’re easily the most beautiful person in this room.”

Viktor felt dizzy from the sudden flare of heat on his face. His disagreed, because clearly that title belonged to Yuuri, but when he looked at his lover to say as much, he found Yuuri gazing back with none of the earlier coldness in his expression. It was almost the way he’d look at Viktor when they were alone.

“Can we leave?” he asked before he could stop himself.

“I don’t see why not. Phichit just wanted us to see this part of business before we took the jobs. Let’s go.”

“Shouldn’t we tell him first?”

Yuuri peered around the room. Viktor did the same and found Phichit sequestered between two others in a chair that would have been too small to hold three people were it not for the way they were tangled together. He remembered Yuuri mentioning something about shape-shifters and skinship. Celestino stood a little off to the side, talking to the winged faerie from earlier.

“He’ll figure it out,” was all Yuuri said before straightening from his carelessly graceful slouch against the wall, the arm around Viktor shifting to settle on the small of his back and herd him out the door, always half a step in front of Yuuri.

He could feel the eyes on his back as they left. And he may have been imagining it but when the door clicked shut behind them, it sounded like the noise in the room grew louder.

He didn’t care. He was just glad to be out of there. Tension he hadn’t even known he was carrying bled out of his shoulders and back.

“You okay?” Yuuri asked the moment they were out on the streets.

“Mm, yeah. It was strange, that’s all. Can we walk home?”

It was ten minutes past eleven. It wasn’t too large a distance from here to their place. They’d taken an uber here, but Viktor could use the exertion. He needed to clear his head.

Yuuri agreed easily, taking Viktor’s gloved hand in his own. They didn’t get far before a familiar voice called for them to wait.

Phichit had a smile on his face as he jogged up to them but up close, Viktor could see that it had an uncertain tint to it.

“You guys barely stayed an hour!” he exclaimed, coming to a stop in front of them.

Viktor’s watch agreed with Phichit but his mind didn’t. It had certainly felt much longer.

Yuuri seemed to have no intention of responding and instead appeared to be trying his best to subliminally transfer a message to Phichit through the sheer force of his glare. The other man bore it with seeming composure, but Viktor could see his smile slip for a moment.

“Sorry, Phichit,” Viktor hurried to say, adopting a winning smile. “I was the one who wanted to leave. I’m not used to all of this.”

Phichit gave him a soft look and a wider smile. Yuuri remained still and silent except for the minute twitch of his fingers against Viktor’s.

“I just wanted you two to have a grasp of everything that went on in there,” Phichit told them, an apologetic undertone to his voice.

“Do these happen often?” Viktor asked after an awkward pause. He did want to leave, but he liked Phichit and was curious too and _somebody_ had to say something since Yuuri had apparently turned into a brick wall.

“Oh, just once a week. Not everyone comes all the time. It started out as a meeting place for our pack, but then it just grew to all shape-shifters and some of the fae too. Usually, new people get introduced to everyone, but, well…” Phichit’s eyes strayed meaningfully to Yuuri. Viktor resisted the urge to do the same. “Anyway! How about it then? You two taking the job?”

“Does that also entail organizing these?”

“No, no, that’s all on us. But most of these guys are regular patrons and uh, let’s just say it’s not the best idea to have them run across a human and a vampire working in my shop without warning.”

The stares they’d received were vivid in Viktor’s mind. He was starting to think none of this was a good idea.

“I’m not sure yet, Phichit. We’re grateful for the offer, really, but…what about you, Yuuri?”

Being directly addressed finally broke Yuuri’s silent spell, but his answer was cold and curt, enough so that even Viktor started.

“I’ll think about it.”

Phichit let out a sharp sigh, eyes narrowing.

“If you’re mad at me Yuuri, then just say it.”

“Viktor could have been hurt, Phichit.”

“Of course not! Do you think I’d do that to you? I trust the people in there.”

“Well, I don’t.”

Phichit blanched. Viktor whipped his head to stare at Yuuri, baffled at the whole conversation and incredulous at the way he was sniping at Phichit. The expression of Yuuri’s face had him biting back a gasp.

Yuuri’s gleaming red eyes were as familiar to him as his normal dark ones but now, accompanied as they were by a toothy rictus and smoldering anger, he looked–

He looked like the storybook monster he was supposed to be.

“…Yuuri?”

The swiftness of the change was as shocking as the expression prior to it; brown swallowed red, fangs receded, snarl mellowed into frown. Yuuri took his eyes off Phichit to look at Viktor and whatever he saw on his face made him blink, the last of the hardness vanishing from his expression.

“I–I’m sorry. Vitya. Phichit.”

Viktor still didn’t understand what was going on in Yuuri’s mind, but he was starting to have an inkling. He turned without a word to Phichit who was glancing warily between the two of them. There was a note of wonder in his eyes when they finally came to rest of Viktor.

“You’re sure something, Viktor Nikiforov,” he said under his breath, possibly not for Viktor to hear. Then, louder, he said, “You’re forgiven. I guess it was rude to not warn you. I know how you get. It was supposed to be a surprise – you know, a community and all.”

“I hate surprises,” Yuuri pointed out drily, a surprising hint of humor creeping into his voice. “And vampires are by nature solitary.”

“Unless they’re mated, clearly.”

Yuuri didn’t say anything to that and Viktor, though pleased by the implication, was tired of being left in the dark.

“If the two of you are done being strange and mysterious, may I ask what the hell just happened? Actually no, let me guess. Phichit, you wanted to introduce Yuuri to your friends in there, but none of them like vampires, and Yuuri thinks that’s somehow a risk to me?”

“Close,” Yuuri said. “Most of them also don’t like humans in their spaces. But they probably wouldn’t have harmed you. I, on the other hand, would be seen as a bigger threat. I can handle myself, but I can’t fight and protect you.”

That was more ominous than Viktor thought was warranted. The people in the bookstore hadn’t been friendly, but they hadn’t been hostile either and talk of fighting, the surety with which Yuuri said he could take them – none of it sat right with Viktor. Luckily, Phichit intervened before Viktor could exercise morbid curiosity and ask for details.

“No one’s fighting anyone. Jesus, Yuuri, I thought Hasetsu was supposed to help you relax but you’re as bad as ever!”

Yuuri just _looked_ at Phichit.

“Uh, listen, Phichit, thank you again. You’re very sweet. We’ll tell you soon, okay?”

With that, he dragged Yuuri away. He let it happen, calling a faintly warm goodbye to Phichit and tucking his arm into Viktor’s once they were out of sight and walking at a normal pace.

Neither of them talked much but the silence wasn’t tense, just thoughtful. Yuuri had a distant look in his eyes and Viktor, after taking a moment to admire that the expression made Yuuri look oddly attractive – to be fair, he was always attractive one way or the other, even with blood on his teeth, – turned to his own thoughts.

He hadn’t been expecting to actually meet any non-human people here; Others as Yuuri called them. Phichit and Celestino were expected but to suddenly be thrown into a room full of werewolves and faeries and people with glowing eyes was a wholly unsettling experience. Viktor didn’t know if he was imagining it because he knew what they were and what he wasn’t, but Yuuri, despite his deliberate aloofness, had shared the same aura as those people, and Viktor had been the odd one out.

It was not really a pleasant experience. Then again, maybe he should have been prepared for it. Yuuri had said early into their relationship that he intended for Viktor to get used to what he did as an Enforcer. The claim had brought him joy then, high on domestic bliss and willfully ignorant to anything outside their sleepy corner of the world.

Now, he was all too aware that their time together was limited.

But that was no excuse, was it? He’d wasted enough time. If he lived ten months or ten years, then he was going to live it to the fullest with Yuuri by his side.

And if that meant growing accustomed to people that looked at him with alien eyes, then–

It was only once they were home and stripping off their clothes for those more comfortable that Viktor voiced his decision.

“Yuuri, I want to work there.”

Yuuri froze, a comical sight with his shirt half-raised over his head. Viktor couldn’t find it in himself to laugh.

“Are you sure?”

“As sure as I can be. Tonight was weird. Very weird. But this is your world, isn’t it? It’s only right that I get to know it for myself. I mean, eventually, your vacation will be over, and you’ll be back to Enforcer duties. I can’t stay ignorant forever.”

In the space between one word and the next, Yuuri was in front of Viktor, shirt plucked off and bare-chested. Cool hands cupped his cheeks, tender and sweet like the look Yuuri was giving him.

“I still can’t believe how wonderful you are,” Yuuri whispered, leaning in to brush his lips over Viktor’s. “Wonderful and mine. I’m beyond happy that you’re willing to learn more about us, but if it ever upsets you or becomes overwhelming, don’t push yourself.”

Viktor managed, somehow, to push through the distracting delight bubbling up inside him and respond to Yuuri.

“Yuuri, love, I made a career out of pushing myself into impossible things. I’m not one to stop once I get going.”

Especially since he didn’t have the luxury of _time_.

Yuuri just shook his head, a fond smile playing on his lips.

“There’s no hurry.” Yes, there was. “I won’t lie though, I’m happy to hear that. That said, I don’t know if Scrolls & Scripts is the best way to do it. You weren’t any more comfortable than I was tonight.”

“I’ll get used to it. Why where you uncomfortable though?”

“I hate crowds.” Yuuri’s expression darkened a bit. “I also hate being ambushed like that. Phichit’s lucky I’m fond of him.”

“I think he meant well.”

Yuuri made a noncommittal noise and stepped away from Viktor, working on his pants. He spared a moment of concern for their friendship but really, they’d known each other for decades and could sort it out for themselves. Viktor was the last person who could offer advice anyway.

“When do you want to start?” Yuuri asked once he was dressed in a pair of sweats and a ratty tee. Viktor remained naked. Yuuri really should follow his example.

“Vitya, stop staring at my dick and answer.”

“There’s nothing to stare at because everything’s covered up,” he shot back, shamelessly petulant. It still didn’t make Yuuri ditch his clothes. “And as soon as possible? It could be tomorrow, I’m ready.”

Yuuri frowned, not as pleased by that as Viktor thought he’d be. Surely, he was getting bored?

“That’s very sudden,” Yuuri said after several seconds of silent scrutiny.

Viktor opened his mouth to say they’d been hanging around doing nothing for weeks, that Viktor in particular had been doing it since Hasetsu and – oh, that was the point, wasn’t it?

“You might find this hard to believe seeing that you’ve only seen me lie around and be lazy, but there was a time when I got restless when I wasn’t productive. Hated break days. Injury recoveries were hell – I drove my coach and doctors crazy. Practiced more than I needed to during the off season. I didn’t really know how to…not work.”

The world had hailed him as a prodigy; called his skating effortless, said he made winning look easy.

And yes, he’d had talent, heaps of it, but no one dominated a sport for the better part of a decade as completely as Viktor had without working their bones off.

It had been worth it at first.

“Why did you stop?”

The problem was that he hadn’t. Not after retirement, not during treatment, not for a long, long time.

Too long a time.

“I didn’t want to anymore. Couldn’t see the point. I told you, didn’t I? I fell out of love with the ice.”

Yuuri said nothing as he grasped Viktor’s hands and led him over to the bed, coaxing him with knowing touches to sit and lie down, wrapping him in as blanket once he did. Yuuri sat beside him, kind fingers combing through Viktor’s hair and making his eyes droop.

He hadn’t brushed his teeth, and he would definitely have to get up in the middle of the night to urinate but none of that mattered when it meant he could drift off just like this with his Yuuri watching over him.

“Did you ever consider getting help?”

Yuuri’s voice intruded into that hazy world where sleep met sense. Viktor pried one eye open, just to see Yuuri and ascertain that he really had asked that. The most gorgeous face in the world hovered above him, brows furrowed in that way Yuuri did when he was worried but working through it.

Viktor wanted to tell him it was fine. He knew Yuuri knew, and Yuuri knew he knew that he knew. They just didn’t talk about it. Well, Viktor didn’t. Yuuri, precious blood-drinking angel that he was, didn’t force him.

So he smiled, closed his eyes, and answered.

“I did. After retiring. Yakov insisted. It helped for some time. But talking and pills didn’t change the fact that I had no one to come home to except a dog. A very lovely dog but still.”

He yawned into Yuuri’s face, mildly regretful of it.

“And now I have you. You’re home.”

Viktor slipped away, still smiling.

 

* * *

 

Viktor woke to a kiss, surprise parting his mouth in a gasp that Yuuri wasted no time taking advantage of. The electric shock of his tongue in his mouth woke him up all the way, particularly the parts below his waist. Viktor gently closed his teeth around Yuuri’s tongue, digging just enough to sting and wring a moan from Yuuri.

“Ow,” Yuuri complained jokingly when Viktor let go. “This is what I get for waking you up with love.”

“No, I think that was your tongue,” Viktor returned, voice still thick with sleep. Yuuri didn’t say anything else, kissing him again instead. It always felt gross at first to kiss with morning breath and fuzz on his tongue, but Yuuri never seemed to mind and there were few things Viktor would pass up kissing Yuuri for. Morning breath and even blood were not on that list.

Yuuri was dressed, fresh and damp from an early shower, but when Viktor rolled on top of him, sheets falling off his body, he could tell through the clothes that Yuuri’s body was just as interested as his was.

Morning sex used to be a near daily indulgence but ever since they’d started working at Phichit’s, Viktor usually found himself being shaken awake with barely an hour before the sun grew too much for Yuuri to go outside safely. A hurried half hour of preparation followed, even their showers taken separately because neither of them were paragons of restraint.

The activity was nice if strange, a little like exercising a sorely ignored muscle. Viktor didn’t dislike it, but he couldn’t deny that he’d missed the luxury of waking up to this.

“I can hear you thinking,” Yuuri grumbled against his mouth.

“Just that it’s been a while since we’ve done this. I missed it.”

Yuuri smiled, slow and hot, eyes flickering red as one of his hands curved around Viktor’s neck, fingers digging into days-old bruises. Viktor tilted his throat readily, smirking when Yuuri’s gaze immediately zeroed in on his pulse.

“These are fading,” Yuuri told him, bending his head to flick his tongue against the largest of the marks, a faint yellow one right above Viktor’s left collarbone. He shivered.

“Your fault.”

“I didn’t want you to find them a bother. It can’t be comfortable to wear scarves in this heat.”

It wasn’t comfortable. Ideally, Viktor could have left his neck and his unique necklace exposed for everyone to see and admire, but he had the sense to know that the completely consensual and mutually enthusiastic mauling of his neck – and really, his whole body – would only raise unpleasant questions in the minds of onlookers.

But damned if he was going to let a little heat take this from him.

“Yuuri, I couldn’t care less. I will endure unwise fashion choices and this tyrant of a sun for a million years to have your mouth on my neck. Besides, summer’s almost over.”

Yuuri chuckled, the sound followed by teeth closing delicately over his Adam’s apple. Viktor made an inarticulate sound and arched his neck farther back, feeling it strain. The pressure was gone far too soon, replaced by the teasing sensation of soft kisses dropped all over his throat. Viktor didn’t miss the way Yuuri lingered at the side of his neck, just where he liked to bite.

“You’re hungry,” he said just as Yuuri took a sliver of flesh into his mouth and sucked, hard and rough, driving the rest of Viktor’s words from his head. Something about dates and keeping count, rendered unimportant by a clever mouth and cold suction.

“Very much,” Yuuri rasped, tugging Viktor down by the hair to swallow his ragged breaths. Viktor could feel his whole body twinge in anticipation of the almost orgasmic pleasure Yuuri’s bite always gave him.

“You didn’t have to wait,” Viktor said once he could.

“I did. You’ll have to recover and today’s Saturday.”

Viktor tried to say he could totally sit around and look pretty in a bookstore even with the blood loss but not even a word could be uttered before he was being pushed off Yuuri and onto the sheets, pinned down by a solid weight on his stomach and the vice grips on his wrists. Yuuri didn’t waste any time; his nose nudged the hollow of Viktor’s throat, breathing deep enough for Viktor to hear.

It was instinct to bare his neck for what was to come but–

“Wait!”

For a moment, he doubted whether Yuuri would be capable of stopping with his fangs prodding Viktor’s skin, but after a heavy pause, he pulled back, confusion marring his features as he looked down at Viktor.

“Vitya? What’s the matter?”

Viktor blushed, fire spreading from cheeks to torso. Yuuri’s eyes seemed to glow brighter.

“Can you…from my thigh again?”

For an instant, the predatory look on Yuuri’s face disappeared, sheer surprise taking its place. Then it was back in full force, making Viktor feel like someone – something – to be devoured.

He let his legs fall open.

“You want that, Vicchan?” Yuuri asked, purely to make Viktor say it. He almost whined because it was _frustrating_ when Yuuri did this, but he always looked so pleased when Viktor complied and that was high better than any gold medal.

“Please, yes. You only did it that once. I’ve been wanting and–”

He shut up, words lost, but Yuuri didn’t torment him further, just slid down Viktor’s body to perch between his legs like he belonged there. Viktor was hard, cock lying flushed against his thigh, swelling further under the weight of Yuuri’s stare. The first and last time Yuuri had drank down there, the sex that followed had left Viktor nearly insensate. He didn’t care if it repeated.

“Please,” he whispered.

Yuuri ignored his cock when he lowered his head to nuzzle at the soft skin on the inside of Viktor’s thigh. The chilly touch of his nose followed by his mouth had Viktor trembling, hands fisting in the sheets. At this rate, he was going to get turned on by ice cubes.

The cold dissipated at the first sting of fangs, the piercing pain drawing forth a gasp that turned into a cry when Yuuri started sucking, his mouth turning hot as Viktor’s blood rushed inside. The experience didn’t get any less intense with repetition, and Viktor found himself wanting to arch and writhe but held still by Yuuri’s hands on his hips.

Distinct sensations numbed after a while, each second a new eternity, a relentless flood of mind-muddling ecstasy.

He wanted it to never stop.

It did though he was too dazed to register Yuuri stopping and licking the bites closed until gentle, patting motions on his thighs made him open his eyes and glance down. Residual pleasure thrummed through his body, leaving him shuddering and twitching and gulping down air. Thoughts were hazy things, unimportant in the face of Yuuri’s scarlet smile and the singing of his blood.

But one stood out clear.

It said–

Better to die like this, joined with Yuuri and drowning in pleasure, than to rot slowly with the pull of time.

Yuuri crawled over him, sated and smiling until his gaze locked on Viktor’s.

“Vitya?”

There was bemused concern in his voice and Viktor, blankly staring, could see it turn sharp, probably flying to conclusions both logical and wrong. He reached up with heavy arms to pull Yuuri down against him, all breath ejected from his lungs at the harsh impact. It saved him the effort of talking at least for some moments.

Yuuri was reassuringly solid like this. Viktor felt safe and protected under him, even from his own head.

It wouldn’t last but in some ways, that wasn’t bad either.

“You didn’t take too much,” Viktor said after a while, pushing the English words past a tongue that wanted to shape Russian. “I’m good, I’m perfect.”

Yuuri turned his head, lips curving into a smile that Viktor could feel on his cheek.

“You are.”

A kiss, light and wet. Was there blood on his face now, a macabre lipstick print? He’d like that.

Yuuri shifted, one leg brushing Viktor’s erection. His breath hitched.

“I’ll take care of that,” Yuuri told him. “Would you like that?”

He would but–

He’d been thinking too much lately of things he shouldn’t be thinking about yet, and now look at what they had done, intruding into moments they had no business being in. That errant thought, not entirely unexpected after everything, didn’t leave his mind. Wouldn’t, couldn’t, maybe shouldn’t. Viktor didn’t mind; Yuuri had once promised to kill him kindly.

But–

“Stay. Just like this.”

He held Yuuri tighter, visceral relief paralyzing him when Yuuri only hummed and relaxed into him.

Later, Yuuri would kiss him with lips that tasted like copper and suck him off with the same, and Viktor would scream and shudder and let dark thoughts be pushed back to where they belonged.

For now, he breathed in the mingled scent of blood and shampoo and felt loved.

 

* * *

 

“Tonight’s one of those nights, isn’t it?” Viktor asked, shedding his scarf and coat.

Yuuri mumbled an agreement, still in a foul mood from the one werewolf that had tried to flirt with Viktor. He was still half-certain that she’d only done it to get a rise out of Yuuri, judging by her smirk at his _I’m gay and also attached_. He supposed she – and the others – had figured that trying to mess with Viktor would get a better reaction than all their failed attempts to befriend Yuuri.

Anyway, it had worked. Viktor honestly hadn’t known Yuuri could move that fast – it might as well have been teleportation.

It had even been a little amusing when Yuuri actually growled at her. Less fun though to have him still seething from that encounter and oblivious even to Viktor’s attempts to kiss him.

“Yuuuuuri,” he drawled, crowding Yuuri against the door. “You’re not paying attention to me.”

Brown eyes widened behind blue-rimmed glasses, plain and useless but Viktor had made one comment about liking how Yuuri looked with his hair slicked back and bespectacled in a picture, and now Yuuri regularly sported both whenever they went out. Damn, but he loved this man.

He plucked off the glasses and kissed Yuuri, close-mouthed and lingering, enjoying the cool softness of Yuuri’s lips on his. When he pulled back, the frown had left Yuuri’s face.

“You know she just wanted to needle you, right? I think they’re all annoyed that you’re not joining their little parties. Like the one tonight.”

“Fuck their parties,” Yuuri grouched, pulling Viktor down by the back of his head to kiss him again. “You’re mine. They could at least respect that.”

Viktor grinned and stepped back though a not inconsiderable part of him wanted to press close to Yuuri and let him work off all that frustration right here. But honestly, making him wait would be even better, and Viktor was all for losing sleep for a good cause.

He unbuttoned his shirt with one hand, grin growing as Yuuri’s gaze tracked the motion hungrily.

The garment fell to the floor. Viktor stepped over it and stretched, unabashedly showing off. Yuuri moved towards him, eyes fixed on Viktor’s chest and looking like a man enchanted. Maybe he was. Viktor was, as always, painted in marks that exemplified precisely what Yuuri claimed before. Teethmarks and fingerprints, all Yuuri’s.

The glasses were still in his hand. Viktor placed them on his own face; they felt unfamiliar and awkward but it wasn’t like he was going to be wearing them for long. Yuuri hadn’t noticed, still preoccupied trailing his gaze over Viktor’s bared skin and slowly prowling forward, predatory from the curl of his mouth to each long stride.

Viktor backed away in tandem, always a few steps out of reach.

“Yuuri,” he called, pushing up the glasses. “How do I look?”

Yuuri’s eyes snapped to his face, an incomprehensible noise escaping him as he took in Viktor wearing his glasses. In a split-second, he was there in front of Viktor, reminiscent of the way he’d flashed from the counter to place himself between Viktor and Mina earlier today. A strong arm came around his waist, the other reaching to touch the frame of his glasses.

“Beautiful.”

Viktor chuckled.

“You’re biased, darling.” He leaned forward until his mouth was hovering over Yuuri’s. “I’m going to…take a shower. Bye!”

“Wha–”

He practically skipped to the bedroom, taking off his pants and underwear once inside. The rooms here were en suite, a welcome difference from their Hasetsu house in that it was infinitely easier for one of them to slip inside to join the other. Not that it was happening tonight. They were going to wait.

“Give those here,” said a voice from behind and Viktor jumped, whirling with a gasp around to find Yuuri a couple of feet away and holding out his hands. The shirt Viktor had ditched earlier was draped over them. He mutely bent to pick up his slacks and briefs and gave them over. Yuuri’s glasses were placed on top.

Yuuri took them, holding them close to his chest while never once taking his eyes off Viktor.

“Go on,” Yuuri murmured, voice too low. “Take your shower.”

“I–uh–yes, I’m–yeah.”

He expected Yuuri to pounce on him the moment his back was turned. But there was nothing; no touch, no word, not even the whisper of a breath. Viktor looked over his shoulder before going into the bathroom. Yuuri remained in the same spot, eyes molten and intent.

Viktor gulped and closed the door behind him.

Yeah, he was in for it tonight.

It took monumental effort to not jerk off in the shower. His cock, half-hard since the striptease, begged for touch and when he imagined Yuuri still standing outside and listening in, he wanted nothing more than to give him a worthy show.

He resisted and cleaned up thoroughly, washing away the day’s grime, both tangible and not. With each passing day, it got easier to go out and live. He even made – not friends but a little more than acquaintances with the store regulars, human and non-human, the difference between the two surprisingly scant once he got to know them as people. It was good to talk to others again. He hadn’t even known he’d missed it. The exchanges were meaningless in many ways and fulfilling in others.

But the passage of time only increased the weight of all the things he had to talk to Yuuri about. No, not had to. Yuuri would never push. If Viktor chose to never reveal why he’d…done some of the things he did, then Yuuri would respect that. For a time, he thought he would do exactly that. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

He turned his head to the spray with a frustrated grunt, displeased at the sudden turn of his thoughts.

At least it curbed the urge to touch his dick.

Yuuri wasn’t in the room when Viktor left the bathroom. He stayed long enough to pull on a pair of sweats before going to find him. Sounds from the kitchen drew him and for a moment, he feared that Yuuri was trying to cook him something again, but no, he was just heating up last night’s leftovers like the thoughtful boyfriend he was.

To think that Viktor had once doubted, albeit only for a brief time, that Yuuri was only pretending concern.

He was about to go and drape himself over Yuuri’s back, test how long he could tease before Yuuri’s eyes turned red, when the doorbell rang.

It was only seven, not an unreasonable hour for guests. But there weren’t anyone but Phichit and Celestino to visit them in this city, and they both should be at the bookstore with the rest.

The bell rang again, followed by a single sharp knock.

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri, standing by the stove, turned around with a frown on his face and a pan in his hand.

“Probably Phichit. I did send him a text telling him to keep his people in line. It was…possibly not that nicely worded.”

Viktor groaned, bringing a fist to his forehead. Of course. He wasn’t even sure why he was surprised. He had yet to see Yuuri well and truly lose his temper but the little flares of anger were all on Viktor’s behalf.

The protectiveness was cute; the consequences less so.

“I’ll get it then.”

Another knock sounded as Viktor made his way to the door. He considered getting a shirt but their clothes were all in the bedroom closet, and Phichit had been kept waiting long enough. It wasn’t like he’d be scandalized. That man had even less shame than Viktor.

“Coming,” he yelled, speeding up. Silence answered.

He yanked open the door.

And found himself face to face with Lilia Baranovskaya.

He froze.

Static filled his mind and he stumbled back the next moment, numbly allowing her to brush past him with a curt nod.

He stared stunned at the hallway for a immeasurable seconds before good sense returned, bringing with it nothing but confusion.

“Yuuri!”

He slammed the door and ran back inside.

Lilia was there, not an illusion, though she might as well have been with the way she stood out like a sore thumb in their cozy living room. Yuuri was there too, staring at her with wide eyes.

“Lilia!”

Viktor noticed only after the fact that another voice had joined his. He pried his eyes off her to gape at Yuuri.

“You know her?”

“I–yes. Why do you?” 

 _Because she’s my ex-coach’s ex-wife_ , he wanted to say but the sentence was stuck in his throat. Lilia’s face was marble as she surveyed them both, pale green eyes cold enough to cut. That, at least, was familiar.

“Vitya,” she finally said. “Yuuri.”

Lilia knew Yuuri. Yuuri knew Lilia.

Viktor couldn’t wrap his head around that, and judging by the look Yuuri was giving him, Lilia knowing Viktor was giving him as much trouble.

“Ho–” He cleared his throat when his voice failed him. Tried again. “How do you two know each other?”

Lilia said nothing, merely looked at Yuuri whose eyes remained fixated on Viktor.

“She’s…Minako’s mate. Was. Is. I don’t know. I’ve told you about them.”

But–” He looked again at Lilia. She was as impassive as ever. “She was married to Yakov. And she’s been our rink’s choreographer since forev–since I can remember.”

Forever. Hah.

Viktor remembered the little Yuuri had told him of Minako and her mate. They were both vampires. Lilia was a vampire.

_Lilia was a vampire._

“I don’t understand,” he whispered faintly, bracing an arm on the wall for support. Yuuri was beside him in an instant, putting an arm around Viktor and grounding him.

Lilia watched all this without a word. Then, she spoke.

“I am both.”

If it were anyone else, Viktor would have thought they were silently laughing at his and Yuuri’s confusion. With Lilia, she could have been doing just that or planning both their murders and no one would be able to tell. 

“That color does not suit you, Vitya. And put on a shirt, you are unsightly.”

Viktor glanced down at himself, naked from the waist up and covered in love bites. He refused to be ashamed but – this was a woman who’d known him since he was a snot-nosed brat stumbling about on the ice.

“I’ll go get a–”                                                

Yuuri growled. Startled, Viktor stared open-mouthed at him. Yuuri was focused on Lilia, face white and eyes red.

“Do not speak to him like that.”

Face still turned toward Yuuri, Viktor glanced at Lilia and found her as calm as ever. But her eyes were red.

Oh god.

“Yuuri. Yuuri, it’s okay. She’s always like this. Let me–I’ll be back. Okay?”

Yuuri broke his stare down with Lilia to frown gently at Viktor, face creasing in concern. Viktor tried on a smile and dropped it when Yuuri only frowned harder.

He could honestly use a little time to himself. Just a few seconds. Not to freak out – there was no time – but to quietly and calmly contemplate this new life-altering revelation.

He begged with his eyes for Yuuri to understand, and he must have because he let go of Viktor, slowly and with a caressing softness that might have been intended as reassurance. Viktor took it as such and stole away.

He had to pass Lilia on his way. He didn’t look at her and told himself he was imagining the chill surrounding her.

The bedroom wasn’t much of a sanctuary, but the bed did beckon him to face-plant and pass out until morning dawned, Lilia gone with the sun.

Lilia Baranovskaya, dancer extraordinaire and ice queen off the ice, was a vampire.

What next? Mila was a rusalka?

Hysterical laughter spilled past his lips, muffled by his palms and the awareness that both of the other people in the apartment could hear him loud and clear. He opened the closet and the grabbed the first thing that he saw – a worn grey hoodie of Yuuri’s, a little tight on Viktor but serviceable. It was comforting too, to be swathed in Yuuri’s scent.

It was tempting to dawdle, but he really didn’t want to leave Yuuri and Lilia alone. It didn’t matter that they knew each other. This was clearly not a friendly visit. Lilia had found them somehow and come for them.

Lilia was seated when he returned to the living room. Yuuri remained standing, the early fury gone from his face and replaced by a nervous frown.  

“Lilia,” Viktor paused to greet, trying for that old familiarity and ending with something infinitely colder. He made a beeline for Yuuri who took his hand the moment he was in reach. Maybe Viktor wasn’t the only one in need of some comfort.

“Why are you here?” Yuuri asked, blunt but not without a waver in his voice.

“I was surprised,” Lilia began, in that clipped, grim way of hers, “when I found that you were the vampire who took Vitya away, Katsuki Yuuri.”

Lilia stopped and looked at them, perhaps waiting for a response. Neither of them spoke. What could they say? Viktor squeezed Yuuri’s hand and felt him return the pressure.

“First things first then. Vitya, are you here willingly?”

Viktor almost relaxed. There was no difficulty answering that.

“Yes. Completely. One hundred percent. I love Yuuri.”

“Is that so? Though you know what he is?”

“Of course! Why would that matter?”

One perfectly shaped eyebrow rose. He couldn’t tell if it was disdain or surprise the flashed across her face.

“I suppose you always were a romantic.”

Yuuri made a strange sound beside him, drawing Lilia’s attention to him.

“And you, Yuuri? What are your intentions towards Viktor?”

Yuuri might have been as unsettled by Lilia as Viktor but the words he spoke held only certainty.

“ _Vitya_ is my mate.” Then, quieter. “And we still don’t know why you’re here.”

Lilia’s eyes narrowed, the first stirrings of any real emotion on her face.

“Because my student returned from Japan with blank spots in his memory and a vampire’s scent on him. Did you think I could not tell, Yuuri? I have been alive longer than your Minako; there’s nothing one of our kind can do that will fool my senses.”

Her student. Yuri.

She knew what Yuuri had done to Yuri.

“You’re talking about Yuri Plisetsky.” Yuuri had apparently arrived at the same conclusion. “Lilia, I had no idea at the time that he had any connection to you. I was thinking only of my interests.”

Viktor frowned, looking sideways at Yuuri. He was staring ahead at Lilia with a grave expression.

“Not just yours,” Viktor said. “Mine too.”

Yuuri’s hand tightened around his in what was probably a warning. Viktor ignored it. It was too late anyway.

“You knew of it then, Viktor?”

He flinched but nodded.

“I was there.”

“Vitya–”

“Why should I lie, Yuuri?”

“Why indeed,” Lilia remarked wryly. “That boy spent most of his life looking up to you, Viktor. And you were once responsible for him. Have you forgotten?”

“Of course I haven’t! Do you think I don’t–” He clamped his mouth shut. His guilt was his to bear alone. And he didn’t regret, not even now. “I wanted to be left alone, Lilia. Why did he – and now you – not let me be?”

Lilia smiled. It wasn’t pleasant.

“Love makes fools of us all, does it not?”

There was nothing Viktor could say to that but Yuuri, it seemed, had no such compunctions.

“Yes. You would know, wouldn’t you?”

 _Minako’s relationship with her mate is a glorious wreck_ , Viktor remembered Yuuri saying. The darkening of Lilia’s expression all but confirmed it.

“Listen, Lilia, I’m sorry about Yuri,” Yuuri told her, the steel gone from his voice. “If I could have avoided such measures, I would have. But Viktor’s mine. And I’m not letting anyone, least of all a hellbent teenager, take him from me.”

Lilia stood. She was shorter than them both but she managed to tower over them all the same. Viktor, channeling his teenage self, faced her head on.

“I hope you know what you are getting into, Vitya.”

“Do any of us? All I know is that Yuuri’s side is where I wish to be.”

“And what about the life you left behind? People are beginning to think you’re dead. Nothing is stopping you from returning with Yuuri still by your side.”

Viktor wanted to laugh. _Nothing_ , she said. _Viktor_ was stopping Viktor from returning to that life. Wasn’t that enough?

Yuuri took a step forward, releasing Viktor’s hand. In his shock, he let it happen.

“With all due respect, Lilia, what he chooses to do is none of your concern.”

Though visibly displeased, Lilia inclined her head, conceding the point.

“Very well. I take it then, that you mean to turn him?”

What?

That wasn’t even–

Viktor could only see Yuuri’s back, his expression a mystery, but he could easily picture the surprise he felt, mirroring Viktor’s own. He knew what Lilia meant. He had spent some weeks devouring vampire fiction after all.

But Viktor becoming a vampire wasn’t something they’d ever discussed. It had never even occurred to him; his feelings on the matter were muddled and this was not the time to sort it out.

At least he knew that Yuuri was in the same boat. For all his talk of forever, he was sure Yuuri had never considered staying with Viktor past his human lifespan.

“That’s also not for you to know, Lilia,” Yuuri replied, commendably calm.

“I’ve known Viktor since before he was a blip in your sight, Yuuri. Remember that I know what we are, what we do. And know that I can always find you.”

“Are you threatening me?” Yuuri asked, laughter in his voice. Viktor did not think threats from Lilia Baranovskaya, vampire or not, warranted laughter, and tried to convey as much with a light tug on Yuuri’s shirt. Yuuri kept talking. “If I do hurt Viktor, then I deserve whatever’s coming to me. But Lilia, do keep in mind that those vengeful hands better not be yours. Minako won’t be pleased if you kill her only son.”

Viktor listened with increasing outrage and when Lilia’s lips thinned in a telltale way that preceded something scathing, he rushed forward, walking past Yuuri to stand in front of her.

“Enough of this. Lilia, I’m a grown man who can make my own decisions and live with their consequences. That said, I trust Yuuri. I don’t need your protection.”

Lilia said nothing but her eyes lost its icy sheen; he was reminded, oddly enough, of how she’d look at him when he would finally, painstakingly perfect her choreography back in the days she used to do it for him, before he started producing his routines himself and saw less and less of her.

He took a deep breath and let the hard weight that had settled in his heart since he saw Lilia lighten.

Only new knowledge and red eyes made her seem strange. This was still Lilia, someone whom he’d loved and hated in equal measure once upon a time, and never, ever stopped respecting.

“Lilia, I appreciate your concern. I don’t know if it’s for Yuri’s or Yakov’s sake that you’re here, but really I’m–I’m safe, I’m happy. Happy like I’d forgotten to be, happier than I ever thought I’d be. Maybe I’ll visit one day, maybe I won’t. People can think Viktor Nikiforov is dead. Because he is. Now I’m just…just me, with someone who loves me for that. No amount of gold medals can compare to this. So please–”

He fell silent, looking down at his feet to blink away tears he couldn’t allow her to see.

Twin touches on his shoulders made him look up. Lilia’s gloved hands rested on him, as strangely gentle as the look in her eyes.

“We are not kind creatures, Vitya. We break more than we build. But you, of all people, should know how to survive that. Good luck. Do not worry about Russia. I will handle it.”

She let him go with a hard pat on his cheek. He backed up and into Yuuri’s waiting arms, cold and firm around his waist.

“I will see myself out,” Lilia told them, swiftly striding away. She stopped short of the foyer and, without looking back, said, “Yuuri, give her my regards.”

Then she was gone, the sound of the door closing echoing in the sudden silence of the apartment.

 

* * *

 

“Well. That happened.”

Viktor had collapsed bonelessly on the couch seconds after Lilia’s departure, dragging Yuuri down with him, not that he seemed averse to it. He wasn’t trembling like Viktor, but he hadn’t spoken a word for the last half hour and seemed intent on staring into space for the rest of the night. Viktor understood and had even been trying to not bother him, but if he had to spent another minute stewing in his own thoughts, he’d scream and surely that would disturb Yuuri more drastically than a normal conversation.

But Viktor’s attempt at catching Yuuri’s attention seemed to have helped little. He remained still and silent, eyes narrowed and lips pursed.

“Yuuri?” Viktor reached for him, stopping with his fingertips an inch from Yuuri’s shoulder. “Yuuri, are you–”

Yuuri exhaled sharply, head whipping to the side. Viktor’s outstretched hand seemed to confuse him and he squinted at it for several long seconds, mind clearly elsewhere. But then Yuuri sighed again and took Viktor’s hand with one of his own, laying their joined limbs on the space between them.

“You here with me, Yuuri?”

“Ah. Yes,” Yuuri breathed. “I only realized–no matter, I’m sorry. How are you feeling?”

Hell if he knew. There was shock, naturally, since someone he’d known since childhood had just been revealed to be something that went bump in the night. There was also disbelief that Lilia had just _left_ like that. He kept expecting her to barge back in and–

And what? Lilia wasn’t like Yuri or even Yakov. She didn’t have any excessive attachment to Viktor. If she said she’d take care of things in Russia, then he believed her.

Not that he knew how to feel about that. Until now, even after everything with Yuri, the matter of his fame and the people back home had remained eventualities that he would address when he felt ready to. Now, those confrontations might no longer be needed but the very same left him troubled.

“Like I’ve burned some bridges I wasn’t sure I wanted to burn,” he finally said, looking back up at Yuuri. He was met with a soft look and more understanding than was deserved.

“Oh, Vityenka. I don’t think she meant it like that. I was never too close to Lilia, but I’m familiar enough with her to know what she’s like when she wants to ruin you and this wasn’t that. I think she plans to help. I don’t know how. Maybe she’ll talk to your coach. Though how she’ll explain all of this is a mystery. Does he know?”

“Know what? That she’s a vampire?”

“Yes. You said they were married. I’m no expert on interspecies relationships, but I really don’t think it’s possible for a human to be in such close proximity with one of our kind for so long and not know something’s up.”

Viktor thought of chilled skin, crimson eyes, hungry fangs and even how – no, he was not going to think of Yakov and Lilia having sex. Just no.

“I don’t know,” he answered weakly. “They’ve been divorced a while.”

“But she teaches at his rink?”

“Yeah, she–we used to joke that she’s our secret weapon because–no, no, none of this makes sense. Yuuri, you said she and the vampire who turned you are mates. I know for a fact that she was married to Yakov before I was born and only broke it off when I was twenty-one. That’s decades. I don’t understand what’s happening.”

Yuuri was calmer than Viktor but the frown on his face never went away. Viktor wanted to move closer to him, bury his face in Yuuri’s chest and find solace in the arrhythmic beat of his heart, but they were talking, and it was important, and he wanted to see Yuuri’s face.

He held his hand tighter.

“I’m no more certain than you,” Yuuri told him. “But Minako and Lilia, they’re…complicated. For the last fifty years or so, they haven’t even seen each other and trust me when I say Minako is in a foul mood because of it. I had no idea Lilia had married a human, and it wasn’t like I could ask Minako so I can’t say whether she knew either. It’s a mess. But tell me, please, about Lilia and her teaching you.”

Viktor made a concentrated effort to push aside his confusion. He and Yuuri were both in the dark here. They might as well unravel this one thing at a time.

“Well, Lilia’s a great dancer. She knows so many styles and the way she bends her body in ballet is inhuman–wait.”

They stared at each other. Yuuri was the first to laugh, the severity sliding off his face as his eyes crinkled and mouth gaped, snorting laughter spilling forth. Viktor gazed dumfounded at him for an instant before joining in, the sheer ridiculousness of his choice of words leaving him breathless and heaving.

He didn’t realize until afterward how tense his body had been. His mind, unfortunately, remained in much the same state.

“To think we used to be awed that she was flexible for a fifty something woman,” he said, shaking his head. Yuuri was still grinning widely. “How old is she anyway?”

“Very old. Like with Minako, I don’t know for sure, but she’s pretty ancient.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

After a moment spent trying and failing to comprehend the wealth of hundreds – maybe thousands – of years of experience crammed into familiar green eyes and an airtight chignon, Viktor continued talking, as much to distract himself as to inform Yuuri.

“So she could dance and do it well enough to put the most famed ballet dancers to shame. For the longest time, no one questioned it. I didn’t either until I was in the junior circuits and getting curious why she was never credited for all the choreography she did for me. I won with them – and my own talent, naturally – but I was told early on not to mention her name to the press. I didn’t because it was Lilia asking, and I valued my life, but I got curious after a while. I looked her up on the internet and found nothing. Devoted time I didn’t have to searching old newspapers and such for ballet stars and the like. Again, nothing. I thought about asking her but whenever I considered it, she seemed to look at me like she could read my mind and well…”

“She can be very intimidating,” Yuuri said with a small smile. Was he laughing at teenage Viktor’s folly?

“I let it go after a while. I had bigger and better things to worry about. Medals to win, a world to conquer. After she and Yakov separated, she went away for a few years and returned in time for Yura’s senior debut. She choreographed his Olympic winning free skate, you know?”

Yuuri looked properly awed.

“I never knew Lilia was so artistically inclined. She’s a terror of a teacher though. I was under her tutelage too in the past.”

Viktor perked up despite the situation, turning more fully towards Yuuri.

“Really? What’d she teach you?”

“Ah, well, not dance.” Yuuri grimaced, eyes glazing over. “Newly minted Enforcers are assigned a mentor. Guess who mine was?”

Viktor tried to piece together an image of _Lilia Baranovskaya_ going around killing disobedient vampires. His brain just…blanked.

“I can’t really imagine her with blood on her clothes.”

“Oh, she never got any on them,” Yuuri replied. “It was uncanny. Once, I saw her gut a man like a fish and walk away spotless.”

No, no, he did not need that image in his head. God.

“Yuuri,” he said faintly. “Please spare me the details.”

“Wha–oh yes, right. Sorry.”

They lapsed into silence. Viktor stared at their joint hands; Yuuri’s smaller and almost delicate looking but holding his so securely. He didn’t get why Lilia would think Yuuri was a danger to him. Certainly, he was like no one Viktor had ever met before but why did that matter when everything about Yuuri, the good and the bad and the questionable, was all part and parcel of the man Viktor adored more than he could articulate?

This was the kind of love he’d marveled at he was young and then yearned for as he grew older and lonelier.

“Tell me more,” he said, breaking the silence, wanting to understand. “Minako and Lilia–I want to know.”

Yuuri was looking away from Viktor and at the blank TV, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. His thumb stroked the back of Viktor’s hand gently, an automatic, restless motion.

“I don’t know a lot. I took great care not to know a lot after that one time I had to share a house with them. The walls were thin and you know how my hearing works, Vitya.”

Viktor snorted and even he couldn’t make that attractive, but Yuuri was gazing at him with a soft smile when he got his mirth under control. He smiled back.

“I was past my second century and returning to Minako after a rather long separation when I met Lilia. She was an Enforcer then and remarkably similar to how she is now. Terrifying and authoritative. But she lit up whenever she looked at Minako. It was like she was a different person…” Yuuri trailed off with a pensive expression, and Viktor took the chance to visualize Lilia with the beautiful woman he’d only seen in pictures on Yuuri’s phone. They would be a devastating pair, that he was sure of, but he couldn’t quite picture the softness Yuuri was describing. Even when she had been with Yakov, Lilia’s smiles had been rare things.

“After a few years, I set out on my own,” Yuuri continued. “Lilia quit Enforcing soon after. She was a Councilor for some time afterward. I can’t tell you what happened during that time. All I know is that when she left the Council, she left Minako too. I don’t even know if it was just one of them who ended it or if it was a mutual decision. Minako was, well, a mess. Twice as temperamental and ten time as dangerous for it. I went to stay with her for some time, dragged her along with me when I went about monitoring vampires. But the split didn’t last. We ran into Lilia in London, and I still don’t know how much of a coincidence that was. Thin walls again so I left them be. Lilia wasn’t there the next day, and Minako also left soon after. They got back together a while after that, and separated again. That kept happening. I still have no idea what was really going on. Minako seemed to brush it off as just sex.”

“Let me guess,” Viktor interjected. “It wasn’t just sex.”

Yuuri huffed a humorless laugh and said, “Nope. Minako was in love, I knew that much. I doubt she ever stopped, you know how we are. And Lilia–Lilia never stopped looking at Minako like she was the world either. Then Minako became a Councilor and to the best of my knowledge, she and Lilia haven’t seen each other since.”

Abruptly, Yuuri leaned over the couch to kiss Viktor, a clumsy off-center thing that he felt more on his cheek than mouth. Confused but compliant, Viktor turned to catch Yuuri’s lips properly, closing his eyes with a sigh at their pleasant coolness. A hand came to rest on his cheek, angling Viktor’s head for Yuuri to deepen the kiss. He opened his mouth, flicking his tongue out in time to meet Yuuri’s, the teasing contact sending a sharp shiver down his back.

Yuuri pulled back, regrettably, though he remained much closer than before. Their hands rested on his lap.

“What was that?” Viktor asked, wonderfully caught off guard still.

Yuuri just ducked his head, his mouth tilting into that tiny smile Viktor knew would be accompanied by a blush if only Yuuri had fed recently.

“I remembered how, back then, I thought it was foolish. Both of them. I couldn’t understand why they kept coming together and breaking up again. It seemed simple enough–just stay together if they want to, end it if they didn’t. No need to do this volatile dance and mess each other up.”

Viktor nodded. That sounded reasonable enough, even though Yuuri himself had once said that vampires loved in strange ways.

“I went as far as to ask Minako in a moment of insanity. She nearly threw me through a wall but answered eventually.”

“That vampires find it hard to stop loving?” Viktor pointed out, helpless to hold back smile as he recalled the exact moment that had led to Yuuri telling him that. He needed that happy memory now.

“Yeah,” Yuuri replied with a quiet smile of his own. “Well, that and we get obsessive, which you already know. I heard the words but I didn’t understand them, not really.” Then he looked at Viktor, something beautiful and terrible shining in the depths of his eyes. “Until I met you. I understand now, why they do what they do. I couldn’t let you go either.”

There was something huge and hot in Viktor’s chest, right where his heart should be, growing and growing until it filled his whole body, searing his skin from the inside out.

“I love you,” was all he said, the words a choked whisper.

“As I love you,” Yuuri said, breathtakingly sweet.

“But I don’t–I don’t want to be like Lilia and Minako, Yuuri. I don’t know if I could survive that. I want you, always.”

Lilia had called him a romantic just before. And he wasn’t denying it because here he was, declaring his undying love for a vampire in spite of all the pitfalls he knew awaited them.

But it was the truth too. Viktor and Yuuri didn’t have time stretching out before them like Minako and Lilia. They had the here and the now and a handful of decades that would be nothing in comparison to Yuuri’s life.

Would he love Viktor forever?

“Always,” Yuuri repeated, face open and bright. The frown that followed was jarring. Viktor felt cold premonition creep through his bones right before Yuuri opened his mouth. “Vitya, what Lilia said, about me and you, I mean, we never–I wanted to ask, if it’s alright with you–”

Viktor didn’t realize he’d been squeezing Yuuri’s hand until he cut off with a hiss. He let go as if burned, but Yuuri caught hand before it retreated and held fast, eyes boring into Viktor’s. Whatever he saw on Viktor’s face must have been displeasing because Yuuri’s frown only deepened.

He had to say something. He had to.

“I…”

“It’s okay,” Yuuri said a little too quickly, leaning back and letting go of Viktor’s hand. His fingers ached with the loss. “I understand, it’s not really–”

“Wait. Don’t. Yuuri, tell me…”

He bit his lip, turning over the same questions he’d been dwelling on for months over in his head.

And now Yuuri himself was asking if Viktor was concerned by Lilia’s misconceptions. He didn’t know why Lilia had assumed that unless vampires went around turning humans at first love. That wasn’t the impression he’d received, and it wasn’t what Yuuri was asking anyway.

Viktor didn’t know how to answer. Was he alright with spending his mortal life with a man who’d never age, never change? Would Yuuri want them to be together once Viktor lost his beauty and his blood became diseased?

Yuuri had spoken to him of forever. And Viktor, romantic that he was accused of being and selfish as he had always been, wanted it. He _wanted_ Yuuri to love him forever, to think back on these days and smile and swell with love. He wanted Yuuri to hold him while he died, the same pretty face that had bewitched Viktor weeping in farewell. He wanted to live on in Yuuri’s memory while he roamed the earth, a bittersweet old love to be remembered.

But he might not have that.

Or even if he did, it wasn’t like Viktor could know or care once he was six feet under.

“Yuuri, no matter what, you’ll lo–be with me until the end, won’t you?”

There was something Viktor could have though. His own forever. Whether Yuuri loved him till the world died or forgot him in decades didn’t affect or change that Viktor would love him until he died. By old age or Yuuri’s teeth, either way, he would be stupidly in love with Katsuki Yuuri until his last breath.

Yuuri’s smile was the sun over a dark sea; beautiful and brilliant.

“Yes. Yes, yes, of course, Vitya.”

Viktor let himself relax.

He trusted Yuuri.

“That’s all I need, Yuuri. I’m alright with it. Do what you wish with me.”

He was kissed nearly before he could finish, Yuuri’s mouth hungry against his. Viktor clutched him tight, let him in, and stopped thinking.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Yeah. Lilia.
> 
> Like Phichit, she wasn’t supposed to be in this story at first. Her being a vampire and paying them a visit was conceived first, followed by the detail of Lilia and Minako being mates. Minako was single in the initial outline. But Lilia/Minako is my favourite w/w pairing in this fandom, the credit for which goes to Jenrose’s Translations series. So. Yeah. ~~I’m not saying there might be a fic for them in this verse but yes I’m kinda saying that~~
> 
> It pains to me to have to add the Miscommunication tag. It’s only here for one reason, and I’m sure you guys have guessed what it is but the thing is that I never planned this. Up until chapter 12, I had no idea things were going to go in this direction and Viktor’s possible vampirism was meant to be a far less charged topic. But the story wanted to be told this way and I don’t pretend to have total control over wtf is happing here.


	15. i'll grind against your bones until our marrows mix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri has his own doubts and fears voicing them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, guess we’re back to sex scenes as chapter openers.
> 
> Sex-specific tags: Intercrural Sex, Consensual Somnophilia

Viktor started when Yuuri’s arms wrapped around him, dropping the knife he’d been holding. It fell to the marble counter with a sharp clink.

“Yuuri!” Viktor laughed, pretty like wind chimes. “You startled me.”

Yuuri smiled and held him tighter. He was at the perfect height to rest his head on Viktor’s shoulder, and he wasted no time pressing that much closer, hooking his chin over one broad shoulder and nudging his cheek against the side of Viktor’s neck.

Viktor relaxed into the touch with a quiet sigh, hands ghosting over Yuuri’s forearms in a brief caress before they returned to their original work. Yuuri just watched for a few minutes as Viktor sliced a tomato into small pieces that he then artfully arranged on a plate loaded with eggs, meat, and a variety of raw vegetables.

“Looks disgustingly healthy,” Yuuri murmured, taking care to brush his lips over Viktor’s ear.

Viktor shuddered. He set the knife down carefully and gripped the edge of the counter.

“You, ah, you should have seen what I ate back when I was competing. Apples still terrify me sometimes.”

It was cute how hard Viktor was trying to keep his voice steady. He didn’t quite succeed; it was a note too high and trembling ever so slightly, just like the rest of his body.

Yuuri hummed, buying his face against Viktor’s neck. The answering gasp was sweeter than any music. Yuuri opened his mouth, canines carefully retracted, and flicked his tongue over soft, warm skin.

“Yuuri,” Viktor groaned. “What are you – I need to–”

“I’m hungry, Vicchan. It’s been so long.”

Not really. It had been only seventeen days since Yuuri crawled over Viktor on the couch and sunk his teeth into his neck, not to mention the precious few drops he let himself steal nearly every day.

But that didn’t really matter. Yuuri knew what this voice, half-growl, half-whine, did to Viktor.

And sure enough, the response was a broken moan and Viktor’s head falling back, baring more of his throat to Yuuri’s mouth.

Yuuri nosed at the sweat starting to bead there, relishing Viktor’s quickening breath, and bit.

He’d once believed that all humans opened up for his fangs with the same unremarkable ease, but Viktor had been proving that wrong for months and months. Yes, he gave in to Yuuri easily, but there was something inexplicably powerful about his submission. It was a gift that inspired reverence, and Yuuri let his worship show with teeth and mouth that teased out the life that pulsed hot in Viktor’s veins.

Amidst the electrifying rush of blood into his body, Yuuri was aware of Viktor’s fingers digging into his skin, clinging for strength as his body writhed and screamed in Yuuri’s embrace. There were words too, scattered, bitten things that fell on deaf ears, but Yuuri didn’t need to hear to know what Viktor sounded like when he begged.

He sucked harder, cock throbbing at Viktor’s strangled cry, and kept taking and taking until Viktor’s voice grew faint and his body sagged.

It was hard to stop just as it had been every time since that late September conversation. But he managed, drawing on every bit of hard earned restraint to stop the violent flow of blood and close the incisions with a soothing swipe of his tongue.

Viktor was boneless in his arms, breath and pulse both racing as faint tremors ran through his body. Yuuri kissed the spot he’d bit and scented the air, smiling at the distinct smell of arousal emanating from Viktor. Not that Yuuri was any better with his erection digging into Viktor’s ass.

“Vitya,” Yuuri called softly. The only response was a weak moan.

He tightened his left arm around Viktor and let the other creep lower, slipping under the apron to wrap around the inside of Viktor’s thigh. Viktor wasn’t wearing much as per usual, just a pair of Yuuri’s boxers. Now, of all times, would have been best for him to be in just those skimpy panties he preferred.

Yuuri said as much, breathing the words into Viktor ear and grinning wider than was warranted at the string of guttural Russian that answered him. His proficiency in it was improving but oddly enough, most of it was inappropriate for polite conversation.

Viktor was rock hard when Yuuri touched him through the fabric.

“Oh, you’re wet,” Yuuri told him, fingers tapping the spot where precum had seeped into the boxers. Viktor cursed, moving his hips incrementally into Yuuri’s hand and groaning low in this throat when he flattened his palm along the clothed bulge. He massaged gently, tempted to slip his hand inside and touch Viktor properly, but too enchanted by the desperate gasps of his name that spilled from Viktor’s lips. He would have kept going, would have made Viktor come just like this, but he wanted to _see_ , and with Viktor barely keeping himself up with Yuuri’s support, the kitchen wasn’t the best place for it. The cold floor wouldn’t be too kind to Viktor.

Sweeping Viktor into his arms was only too easy when he was so pliant. His usual delight in Yuuri carrying him was muted by the frustration of lost simulation. Yuuri could empathize – Viktor’s ass was wonderful to grind into.

He didn’t dawdle, speeding to their bed and dropping Viktor on top of it none too gently, only pausing to drag down his boxers and strip off his own clothes before crawling over the dazed, flushed creature sprawled on the mattress. Viktor welcomed him with clumsy arms and blinking eyes, clearly turned on but maybe also confused.

“I think I took too much,” Yuuri whispered against Viktor’s mouth, nipping a path along his chin. “You alright, Vitya?”

He didn’t feel guilty with Viktor unharmed and more or less sensible, but he hadn’t meant to get too carried away, and it was a relief when Viktor answered him, not with words but with his hand taking Yuuri’s and leading it down to his cock in a clear directive.

Yuuri pumped him once, slow and lazy, before shifting to lie on the bed on his side. Viktor frowned at him, almost pouting, but followed suit, pressing closer to Yuuri with a little sigh that was sweet and sexy and everything in between.

“My pretty pet,” Yuuri crooned, swallowing Viktor’s answering gasp. “I love your taste.”

Viktor’s face was that beautiful bright pink now, making his darkened eyes stand out even more. They clung to Yuuri’s face with remarkable determination, fluttering rapidly but never really closing as Yuuri worked them both with a hand that was a bit too dry. Viktor didn’t seem to mind, pushing into the strokes with as much energy as he possessed, and Yuuri adored the feeling of Viktor’s heated cock trapped against his own.

Viktor joined in after some time, his larger hand working in tandem with Yuuri’s, coaxing him to stroke faster and faster, their skin growing slick with Viktor’s precum.

“Kiss me,” Viktor said hoarsely, and Yuuri obeyed without second thought. Viktor’s mouth was lax under his, letting Yuuri lick into him until the lingering taste of blood was washed away.

Viktor came with little ceremony, just a shudder and a sigh eaten by Yuuri’s lips. His come splashed hot against Yuuri’s hand and cock, sending him spiraling into his own climax.

He sat up with more than a little reluctance, knowing it would be less messy later if he cleaned them up now but wanting nothing more than to wrap around Viktor and leech off his heat. Viktor, curled on his side and gazing blearily up at Yuuri, silently encouraged the latter. He was about to lie back down when he remembered breakfast waiting in the kitchen and the lethargy dragging down Viktor’s limbs.

“I’ll be back. Don’t sleep, okay?”

In the kitchen, he paused just enough to wash the come off his hands before taking the salad and returning to Viktor. He was in the same position as he’d been when Yuuri had left, still and breathing too deeply.

Yuuri sat on the side of the bed. Viktor had his eyes closed but opened them when Yuuri patted his arm. Heavy blues stared at Yuuri, almost accusing.

“Sorry, sweetheart. But eat first. I had my breakfast, now it’s time for yours.”

Viktor looked between Yuuri’s face and the plate he held in one hand. A frown furrowed his brows, accompanied by an expression that was equal parts tired and mulish. Yuuri imagined he just wanted to rest, food be damned, but if Viktor was so wiped out from the blood loss as to be beyond words, then he certainly needed some sustenance.

When Viktor showed no inclination of getting up to eat and was in fact drifting off again, Yuuri set the plate down on the bed and reached over to bodily rouse him. There was grumbling and pouting and a half-hearted attempt at glaring but by the end, he had Viktor propped up against the headboard.

It would have been so much easier to just use compulsion. But he’d promised not to use it unless asked, and he wouldn’t break a promise to Viktor.

“Lemme sleep,” Viktor mumbled when wordless protests continued to have no effect. His accent was deliciously thick. Yuuri couldn’t resist stealing a kiss even if Viktor kept his mouth in a moue of disapproval. Honestly, this man.

“I’ll feed you,” Yuuri offered. “You fed me after all.”

Viktor’s expression wavered.

Yuuri drew his legs up, sitting cross-legged beside Viktor. He took the plate from where it was an inch too close to the edge of the mattress and took a tiny piece of tomato, holding it to Viktor’s lips.

Viktor was visibly conflicted now. Most of the sleep had cleared from his eyes, and it was likely that he was resisting out of pure obstinacy.

And well, Yuuri was willing to play dirty.

“Vicchan,” he purred, lowering his voice. “Come on. Be good for me.”

Viktor’s eyes went wide, a fresh wave of red rising to his cheeks and ears. He licked his lips, tongue almost touching Yuuri’s fingers.

“Open up,” Yuuri coaxed, tracing those pretty pink lips.

Viktor opened up.

Yuuri was sure that Viktor needed to neither lick nor suck his fingers that much to just take the food, but he’d started this, and it was only fair that Viktor got to play with him. So he just smiled and picked up a strip of chicken, bringing it to Viktor and enduring the same, slow, downright indecent reception. He kept doing it, and Viktor only got more brazen with each new morsel until he was practically blowing Yuuri’s middle and index fingers in between bites.

It would have been maybe less embarrassing if Yuuri’s cock, still covered in Viktor’s cooling semen, didn’t decide to take a vested interest in the proceedings.

By the time Viktor had eaten the last cube of cheese, most of the blood Yuuri had just drank was on his face or in his dick. Viktor was meticulous in licking Yuuri’s hand clean, and it certainly wasn’t because he was that hungry.

“Yuuri,” Viktor said once he finally let go of the finger he’d been nibbling on. “Wasn’t I good?”

And just like that, embarrassment was overtaken by something deep and molten.

“Yes, Vitya. You were.”

Viktor smirked, and it was sexy for the half-second it lasted before a wide yawn split his face.

Yuuri smothered a chuckle and set the plate on the bedside table, studiously ignoring the throb of his cock in favor of stroking Viktor’s hair with the hand not drenched in spit. He scratched his nails against the scalp in the way he knew would make Viktor go soft and drowsy. Sure enough, he squirmed down the bed until he was flat on his back and heavy lidded.

“Now you can sleep,” Yuuri said gently.

Viktor shook his head.

He reached out to Yuuri’s cock, loosely fisting the base of it.

“Want you to get off.”

It took colossal effort not to react to Viktor’s touch, but Yuuri held himself still, not even breathing, until the urge to fuck into that hand became manageable.

“I did get off. We both did. You’re tired and three seconds way from passing out.”

“No, I–”

“It’s okay, Vitya. I’ll take care of this myself.”

Viktor made an irritated noise and tightened his fist. This time, Yuuri couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped him.

“ _Vitya_ , please don’t–”

“Y’can fuck me,” Viktor slurred.

“You’re barely awake.”

“Mm so? Fuck me anyway.” Viktor smiled, wide and dopey. “Let me wake up all loose. Then we can do it again.”

“ _God_ ,” Yuuri choked, cock twitching.

“Come on,” Viktor murmured, voice husky from either sleep or desire.

“Vitya…”

Viktor’s fingers loosened their grip, hand going slack alongside his face.

“Vitya?” Yuuri whispered.

There was no response. Viktor was asleep.

And Yuuri was hard.

A small part of his mind said he should ignore it or jerk off in the bathroom. The rest of it played _fuck me anyway_ on a loop with the occasional disruptions of _wake up all loose_. It sure wasn’t helping his erection die.

Viktor made a little murmuring noise and turned to his side, his hand brushing Yuuri’s cock as it withdrew. He bit his lip to smother a cry. Viktor had his back to Yuuri now, and the gorgeous curve of his ass beckoned him closer.

Viktor had told him to do it.

Yuuri wanted to.

He reached over to the table, bypassed the plate and grabbed the lube. Each movement was slow and cautious, and Yuuri had to wonder if he didn’t want to wake Viktor for noble reasons or far more filthy ones.

He was a damned vampire; he didn’t do _noble_.

It was with no small amount of trepidation that he slotted his body behind Viktor’s slumbering one, holding his breath all the while as if that would somehow make him less of a disturbance. Viktor didn’t stir at the first touch of Yuuri’s cool skin to his, and the hesitant arm he slid around him didn’t draw more than a faint sigh. Yuuri pressed himself more firmly to Viktor, cock flush against the supple flesh of his backside.

He lay unmoving for a long time, fighting off the dual temptation to breathe in Viktor’s scent and grind into him. But seconds ticked by and Viktor continued to sleep, and Yuuri didn’t get any less horny.

Finally, tentatively, he moved his hips, mouth falling open in a silent cry as he slid against Viktor’s soft, smooth skin. A better angle, a heavy thrust and suddenly, the head of his cock was nestled between the globes of Viktor’s ass, rubbing against his entrance. The lube still clutched in Yuuri’s free hand seemed to burn.

“Vitya. Fuck.”

Viktor slept on.

He didn’t wake when Yuuri removed the arm he’d put around him nor when that same arm descended with lube-slick fingers to burrow into the tight space between Viktor’s thighs. He not-so-accidentally brushed his thumb against Viktor’s hole as he did.

Viktor wasn’t going to wake up loose. Yuuri wasn’t going to fuck him. He didn’t really trust himself to not wake Viktor that way and besides…baby steps.

It was surprisingly easy to slather the insides of Viktor’s thighs with lube and push his cock between them. It was tight and warm, not nearly as much as Viktor would be inside, but more than enough to make Yuuri bite into a pillow to muffle his sounds as he snapped his hips with slow, steady slides that grew fast and frantic with each erratic thrust. It was nearly impossible not to jolt Viktor while fucking his thighs, but he slept on even when Yuuri clamped a hand around the top of one thigh and pressed it down hard, grinding helplessly into the slick heat until he shuddered and came, a shout trapped in his throat as white spots danced behind his lids.

In the aftermath, Yuuri was left with his softening cock trapped between Viktor’s sticky legs. He didn’t pull away immediately, pleasantly buzzed from the aftershocks and content to just nuzzle the back of Viktor’s neck. His hair, long enough to swathe his nape and smelling of chemicals, tickled Yuuri’s nose.

He reluctantly backed off and rolled off the bed. He made a beeline for the bathroom, intent on washing the dried come lube from his cock and also getting something to clean up the mess he’d left behind on Viktor.

When he returned, Viktor was once again lying on his back, one hand stretched to the edge of the bed as if reaching for Yuuri.

That was ridiculously sappy no matter how you looked at it, but Yuuri had long since given up on policing his Viktor-related thoughts. Easier to just accept that he was smitten and a fool for love.

He didn’t even care anymore. He wanted this forever.

And he could have it. Viktor had said so, had given Yuuri permission to do that which would bind them together for eternity.

Except…he hadn’t addressed it since.

Yuuri dutifully wiped Viktor’s legs and stomach with a wet cloth, leaving it crumpled on the floor when he was done. He didn’t want to leave just yet, not when Viktor looked so peaceful and happy in his sleep, brows unlined and mouth relaxed.

Not to say that Viktor seemed unhappy when he was awake. He had those moments, some days worse than others, but he’d never really returned to the deep sorrow of their initial acquaintance or the melancholia of their early days in Detroit. But sometimes, there were these things – a certain tilt to his lips, a particular look in his eyes – that would set Yuuri’s teeth on edge.

He couldn’t shake the sense that he was responsible for it.

And it wasn’t far-fetched. They had yet to discuss the matter of turning Viktor. The process itself was uncomplicated enough. Yuuri had never turned anyone and had honestly thought he would never feel so inclined, but this was hardly the first time Viktor made him reverse his stance on something. Sometimes, Yuuri couldn’t imagine how he’d ever felt whole without Viktor.

But turning someone wasn’t that simple either. The physicality of it was the least of their problems. They had to talk about it.

Viktor hadn’t so much as hinted at it since the night of Lilia’s impromptu visit, and Yuuri oscillated wildly between putting it off as much as possible and biting his tongue to keep the words in.

He wanted forever with Viktor. It was ludicrous that he had never considered it before Lilia confronted him, but the truth was that he had been thinking it unconsciously, taking it as a given for so long that he could scarcely imagine a time when Viktor wasn’t synonymous with _mate_ and _always_.

Yet he couldn’t make himself ask, half in fear that Viktor would feel pressured, half in terror that it would be the point of no return.

It was cowardly to wait for Viktor to broach the topic. But it was Viktor’s humanity on the line. It seemed the sensible thing to do.

Yuuri could wait, mind and heart both coiled around every last iota of his patience.

They had time.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri stared at the numbers on his phone, thumb hovering over the little green icon that he’d been trying to talk himself into pressing for the last half an hour.

Thirty minutes was a long time to dawdle over one phone call. Except Yuuri had been dragging his feet not for minutes or even hours but days, delaying this very moment with excuses that got flimsier with each successive attempt.

It was easy at first to put it off because of course he couldn’t do this with Viktor present and later, it was tempting to wait until he and Viktor had a productive conversation on the matter before consulting anyone else. But it had been about two weeks since Lilia came and went. Viktor seemed to be in no hurry to discuss anything, and Yuuri wasn’t getting any less jittery.

It was getting harder and harder to ignore the fact that Yuuri really just wanted to call Minako for his own benefit.

The problem wasn’t even that he didn’t want to talk to Minako. They didn’t talk with any measure of regularity, often going years without any communication, but she was the one constant in Yuuri’s life since the moment he’d woken with a burning throat on the floor of her house. He didn’t remember how he’d felt towards his human mother or if it had been anything like the strange mixture of respect and exasperation Minako, with her boisterous demeanor and penchant for danger, evoked in him, but she was and would always be the closest thing to a parent he had and that meant something – something warm and abstract and important.

But that woman was sharper than a scalpel, and the moment Yuuri called her and asked what he was about to, she’d know that something was up. After all, Yuuri had sworn to her more than once that he would never, ever turn a human. He’d been reluctant to tell her of Viktor at all because of how mercurial she was on the matter of mates. There was a good chance she’s just yell at him.

He needed to do this though. And this was pretty much the perfect opportunity. It was Tuesday, Yuuri’s break day and the only time of the week where he’d be apart from Viktor for any length of time. If he wasted this, then he’d have to wait another week and possibly drive himself crazy to an extent that he wouldn’t be able to hide from Viktor.

He was making this call if it killed him.

Yuuri looked at the time. Forty-five minutes had passed since he’d holed up in the bedroom with his phone and waning determination.

“Come on, do it,” he muttered to himself. “The last call you made because of Viktor worked out well, didn’t it?”

Minako was a whole different beast than Phichit though. There were risks.

But Viktor was worth every one and if there was anything Yuuri didn’t doubt, it was this.

He pressed _Call_.

It rang and rang, going on for long enough that Yuuri started to wonder if she’d changed her number but no, she’d have let him know if that were the case.

The ringing stopped.

“ _Allo_ ,” greeted a familiar voice, followed by a string of words that ended on a questioning note. Yuuri, having spent countless nights listening to Viktor talk in his sleep, recognized the language immediately.

“Minako, it’s Yuuri.” And then, “Why are you speaking Russian?”

“Yuuri! I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.” She’d switched to Japanese, as she always did when she talked to Yuuri alone. “Did you get a new number?”

“Ah, yes. I’m in America now. New name, new, well, everything.”

“Mm. I’m in Sochi, thus the Russian. Didn’t you hear? The Council moved here last year.”

Yuuri blinked as if that would somehow magically clear up what he’d just heard.

“You’re in Sochi. In Russia.”

“Yeah, kid, unless you know some other Sochi.”

Yuuri _wished_ he knew some other Sochi.

When he’d last seen Minako, six years earlier, she’d been in Haiti with the rest of the Councilors. They moved bases every few years, far more frequently than they changed members, so it wasn’t odd that Minako had moved countries between then and now. In fact, Yuuri wouldn’t care much if her new residence was in anywhere but Russia.

Lilia was in Russia.

Could they – no, Lilia had asked Yuuri to give Minako her regards. She wouldn’t do that if they were in the same fucking country.

Right?

“Still there, Yuuri?” Minako asked, oblivious to Yuuri’s bafflement.

“I – yes. Are you–”

Was he actually going to ask Minako if she’d seen Lilia since Yuuri’s last visit? The same visit during which she’d given him no less than ten lectures on how love was a cruel delusion?

No, no he wasn’t.

“–doing well?” he finished lamely, fighting off the urge to slap himself.

“Eh? Yeah, sure. Weather’s colder than my skin, company’s dull, and the humans all taste like shit. I’m peachy.”

Clearly, Minako’s mood hadn’t improved from when Celestino had talked to her. This was going great already.

“So,” Minako demanded when Yuuri was silent for a beat too long. “Why’d you call? I know it’s not to ask after my nonexistent health.”

“I just, um, I wanted to ask you something.”

From the phone came a sound that might have been a scoff.

“I figured as much, Yuuri. Now spit it out. I’m not going to bite.”

“Only because you’re on the other side of the world,” Yuuri shot back, smiling in spite of himself at her answering laughter. “Minako, I’m the only person you turned.”

“…yes? I know that, Yuuri.”

Yuuri grimaced. He was so glad he was doing this without Viktor around to hear, even if he wouldn’t understand most of it.

“I’m sorry, I – could you tell me why?”

“Why I turned you? I have already. You asked this so long ago, Yuuri, don’t tell me you forgot.”

“No, no, and it’s not that. I know why you turned _me_ but – ah, I guess what I’m trying to ask is how you knew it was right to turn me? You were like me, weren’t you? Adamant about never taking on that kind of responsibility. How did you know I was worth the effort, that you wouldn’t regret it?”

It hadn’t been the same as the situation he had with Viktor. For one thing, Minako hadn’t been in love with him. She hadn’t seen him as her mate; just a human boy who was on his last dregs of life.

Minako was silent for a while. Yuuri could easily picture the way she would be frowning in confusion and suspicion.

“I didn’t,” she eventually told him. “Giving you my blood wasn’t something I decided so much as something that just happened. I was in a panic during your change – it took a while because of your injuries. All the while, I was thinking that I still had time to sever your head and wash my hands off the whole mess.”

Yuuri snorted, not as disturbed as he probably should be to hear that Minako had extensively considered killing him. The important thing was that she hadn’t, not even when Yuuri had wreaked havoc in that little village. She’d protected him until he learned how to protect himself.

“But I didn’t. And I never regretted it either despite your penchant for chaos. I can’t tell you _how_ s or _why_ s, Yuuri. It just is. I saw you dying and couldn’t let that happen. There was no right or wrong about it.”

Yuuri fell back on the bed with a sigh, covering his eyes with an arm.

“That’s no help,” he said softly.

“That’s life,” Minako retorted. “Now are you going to tell me who it is?”

“Huh, what? Who’s who?”

Minako harrumphed. Yuuri debated the pros and cons of playing the fool again but that would only end in her irritating her further. He could hang up but she wouldn’t let it go that easily.

But he wasn’t sure that he should tell her about Viktor. Lilia’s cold eyes flashed behind his lids, followed by the enraged grief he’d once glimpsed on Minako’s face, many decades ago.

“Someone important,” he finally said, deeming that enough of a non-answer.

“Must be something special if they’ve got you this worked up.”

“I’m not worked up!”

“Yuuri, you called _me_ to ask about the change. You’re worked up.”

“You were no help anyway,” he told her petulantly, four hundred year old manchild that he was.

“Ha! Would anything I said have changed your mind? I know how you get once you’re set on something, Yuuri. God knows where you got that obstinacy from – certainly not from me.”

“Uh, Minako? I didn’t get anything from you. We’re not blood relatives.”

“Boy, my blood runs in your veins.”

“Not since that first week, it doesn’t.”

Yuuri thought of exactly whose blood ran in his veins now and his amusement vanished, replaced by something more somber but far sweeter.

“Thanks anyway,” he said, not elaborating further.

“Anytime,” Minako replied. “And Yuuri? Be careful. Our hearts aren’t as durable as our bodies.”

There was nothing Yuuri could say to that.

“Maybe that’s why it’s so hard for us to love,” Minako mused, quiet and distant. “There’s no help after the fall though.”

Yuuri thought of heart-shaped smiles and eyes that held the sea and the sky.

“Yeah.”

Minako laughed again but this time, there was no humor in the sound.

“I suppose it was inevitable. You’re too old for me to meddle in your affairs so I’ll have to trust that you know what you’re doing. As much any of us do anyway.”

“I saw Lilia,” Yuuri blurted.

He yelped in alarm the second the words were out of his mouth, shooting upright on the bed with his heart in his throat.

He had _not_ meant to say that.

But–

Minako sounded so sad.

Yuuri waited, wishing his heart would pound so he could have something else to focus on other than the silence on the phone.

“Is that so?” she said after a long pause. Yuuri stopped chewing up his lip.

“I – yes. She said to give you her regards.”

He didn’t add that he was absolutely not been planning on doing anything of the sort. It was implied.

Minako huffed, tone unreadable.

“Of course she did.”

“She – she’s there. In Russia.”

“I know, Yuuri,” Minako told him, voice too quiet.

He closed his eyes, resting his head on a clenched fist.

“I’m sorry, Minako. I never should have said anything.”

“No. No, it’s good that you did. I’m glad I know.”

Minako didn’t sound glad. But Yuuri wasn’t foolish enough to probe. He expected her to ask when he’d seen Lilia or, more importantly, _why_ , but no questions came. She was the one to break the silence.

“It was good talking to you, Yuuri. Take care of yourself. And remember what I said.”

“I’m – yes, I will. You too. Take care, I mean.”

She made a vaguely amused noise.

“Sure. Bye, kid.”

She hung up.

Yuuri slumped back, throwing his phone away. It skidded along the mattress and fell off the edge.

That hadn’t been a disaster. He hadn’t told her that he’d found a mate in a human, but she seemed to have figured it out anyway. Yuuri had expected more of an explosion. He didn’t know if her quiet resignation was any better.

He buried his face in a pillow, doomed to be alone with his turbulent thoughts until Viktor came home.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri closed his book with a snap.

He was on chapter twelve and could barely understand what was happening. There were zombies. He didn’t even know how they happened. It wasn’t the story’s fault. Well, probably not. Yuuri was too far gone to adequately judge the quality of writing.

Viktor had retired to the bedroom soon after dinner, leaving Yuuri with a smile and a kiss on his brow. It had been a struggle even then not to yank him down beside Yuuri and word vomit everything that was running through his head. Yuuri didn’t understand how he’d spent several lifetimes keeping most of his thoughts to himself and then found himself without a filter when faced with a pair of smiling blue eyes.

Then again, he’d held back this long. That was something, right? And he’d even managed to talk to Minako before he bothered Viktor, not that that particular conversation had helped much.

Yuuri spared one last glance at the novel. It did indeed have zombies on the cover. Huh. How had he missed that?

He turned off the lights in the living room and kitchen and headed to the bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, the dim light of the bedside lamp spilling into the hallway through the gap.

He toed it open and peeked inside. Viktor was sitting with his back to the headboard, computer on his lap. The lamp on the side and the screen at his front cast his face in odd shades, eerily beautiful even when stripped of Yuuri’s raging bias.

He stepped in.

“Hey.”

Viktor sucked in a surprised breath, head snapping up. The laptop was slammed shut at the same moment.

Yuuri frowned, confused.

“Everything alright?”

He could hear Viktor’s heart pound.

“I didn’t hear you,” Viktor gasped, putting the laptop away.

“You rarely do,” Yuuri told him. Viktor had grown used to the way Yuuri moved, but there were moments when he was still caught off guard. And Yuuri would never admit it to him but there was something to be said for the way that momentary fear spiced up his scent.

He approached the bed as Viktor put away his laptop and shifted to make room for Yuuri beside him. It would be nice and easy to slide in beside him and hold Viktor while he slept. But while Viktor could sleep, Yuuri would have no such solace, and he knew he’d spent the night fruitlessly going over the same things that had been plaguing his thoughts for days.

He sat by Viktor’s legs instead, absently running his palm over one of his calloused feet. Figure skating hadn’t been kind to them, but Yuuri adored every bit of Viktor. He pressed a kiss to the big toe, smiling when Viktor hissed and twitched.

“Tickles,” he protested half-heartedly. Yuuri was curious at the redness on his face. Since when was kissing his feet enough to make Viktor blush?

“Yuuri…do you keep track of the years?”

Yuuri blinked, taken aback and momentarily forgetting his own queries.

“Ah, sort of? I can’t give you the exact years. Just that I’m over four hundred and under four hundred and thirty.”

Viktor didn’t seem too pleased with that answer.

“That’s quite a bit of uncertainty.”

“I guess,” he said, shrugging. “I don’t remember the exact year I was turned. Minako doesn’t either. We just have an estimate.”

Viktor looked down, dark hair falling over his eyes. It was probably time to trim it.

“It makes sense that it wouldn’t really matter to you,” Viktor spoke after a short pause. “Being immortal and all.”

“Pretty much.” Yuuri did want to ask what had prompted these questions but he couldn’t resist the opportunity, uncannily perfect, to ask some of his own. “Do you want to hear about it, Vitya?”

“Hear about…your life?”

Yuuri nodded, looking away from the open surprise and eagerness in Viktor’s expression. He ran his hand up Viktor’s leg, all the way up to his knee where he thumbed the raised flesh of Viktor’s surgical scar. There was a long exhalation from above but no words. Viktor just waited.

There were many things Yuuri wanted to ask but most of them were too much, too confrontational, and he wanted to at least try to hold on to his conviction to not rush Viktor into anything.

Instead, he could start by telling Viktor things about his own life, the good and the bad and the dull, and give him a taste of what to expect from forever.

“It was easy at first,” Yuuri began, still making eye contact with Viktor’s kneecap. “You already know what I did to my village. Minako and I wandered all over Japan after that, staying out of human sight for the most part. We left soon though, mostly at my insistence. The world was so…vast all of a sudden. I wanted to see it all. Minako was old and savvy and had connections in a lot of places, among vampires and other supernaturals. It was fun, especially once I could control my bloodlust and feed without killing. There was no limit to how often I could feed after that.” Yuuri glanced up, shooting Viktor a little smirk. “I fed _a lot_.”

Viktor laughed, mouth curving and eyes crinkling. He looked fond despite of the subject matter.

Yuuri loved this man.

“Did it stay easy?” Viktor asked, voice soft and secretive.

Yuuri’s smile slipped.

“No. I left Minako after several decades. She wasn’t too happy about it which is ironic given how, whenever I caused her trouble, she’d say she’d never wanted kids, and I was just proving her right. Being on my own was nice at first too. Then I got bored again. Not draining each and every human that crossed my path got too hard. Enforcers were just formed during that time, and I think it was just fear of them that made me control myself. Even so, there were times when I thought…well, how bad would it be, really, if I…”

He didn’t finish the thought. These weren’t things he’d consciously thought of in centuries. Now he was starkly reminded of why.

“Oh, Yuuri,” Viktor sighed. Yuuri looked at him, found him leaning forward as if aching to cross the space between their bodies and take Yuuri into his arms. That would be nice, certainly, but Yuuri wouldn’t be able to speak another word if he allowed it.

So he shook his head and resumed his aimless stroking of Viktor’s leg. This time, though, he kept his eyes on Viktor’s face.

“I went back to Minako instead. She and Lilia were together then, and Lilia was an Enforcer. I’m pretty sure they conspired to make me one too. Minako was the one who convinced me to try. Lilia trained me. That was…honestly hell. She wasn’t afraid to take advantage of the fact my body could take a lot of damage and continue – oh hey, don’t look so mad, she meant well.”

Viktor only scowled harder. It was adorable that he actually got protective over Yuuri, even if it was aimed at a woman who would at best raise a derisive eyebrow in response.

“It helped a lot,” Yuuri told him, trying not to show how charmed he was by Viktor’s reaction. “Gods know I needed the training. And well, Phichit likes to call me a trouble magnet, and he’s not really wrong. I got into a lot of fights. Still do. Werewolves in particular seem to really dislike me. I mean, it’s not like I’m too fond of them either after all the shit they–”

Viktor snorted, cutting Yuuri off.

“Sorry, sorry, continue.”

“Why’d you laugh?”

“Oh, nothing, it’s just funny that you say that when over half of the wolves at Scrolls and Scripts tried so hard to get to know you in those first weeks. I think a few are still trying.”

“Wha–”

Yuuri tried to remember anything of the kind happening and came up blank. A few had tried to flirt with Viktor but some impressive scowling and grumbling to Phichit had put a stop to that. The only interactions Yuuri had with them were the typical posturing and borderline threatening that Yuuri always got from wolves. No other shifters were that irritating.

He shared this with Viktor who gave him a look that was half-amusement, half-incredulity.

“Whatever you say, _lapushka_. I’m sure you know best.”

Why did he get the sense that Viktor was making fun of him?

“What?”

“Nothing,” Viktor said with an innocent smile that was patently false but also impossibly endearing. “Go on, Yuuri. I want to hear the rest of your story.”

“Oh, well, there’s not much else really. If you put aside the occasional kills and fights, my life’s been fairly monotonous. Or is it more accurate to say that even with the fighting and killing, it was monotonous? You – you are the most exciting thing that ever happened to me. That ever _will_ happen to me.”

Viktor’s smile was wide but it had a strange waver to it.

“I know what you mean,” Viktor said quietly. “Mine’s much lesser in length obviously but – I’ve traveled all my life, seen so many beautiful places, met so many interesting people and yet…most of it blurs together. I barely remember the last few years in particular. So, yes, I know. We’re the same that way.”

Yuuri crawled over to kiss Viktor, sinking into his arms with a faint sense of wonderment at how he’d stayed away this long. Teeth sunk into his lower lip, drawing it into the wet heat of Viktor’s mouth. Yuuri shuddered and pressed closer, draped over Viktor and caught in his mouth. Viktor’s hand twisted into his hair while another kneaded his shoulder. Yuuri stroked gently, then fervently over Viktor’s face and necks, kissing him with growing hunger even as a part of his mind squirmed in unease, insisting that this wasn’t the way this was supposed to go.

But it Viktor was who broke the kiss, pulling away and pushing Yuuri back with hands on his shoulders. Yuuri wanted to protest, but the look in Viktor’s eyes stopped him short.

“There’s so much I don’t know about you still,” Viktor whispered, forlorn in a way that Yuuri didn’t like. “So many years’ worth of history. I can hardly imagine it.”

Viktor spoke like that was a bad thing. It wasn’t that important. Yuuri barely remembered most of it and what he did, he was only too happy to share with Viktor. And besides–

“It’s mutual. There’s a lot I don’t know about your past either. But that’s natural, isn’t it?”

Viktor’s mouth parted and closed with no words. Yuuri shifted so that he was sitting beside Viktor, hips against his stomach and one arm propped on Viktor’s other side.

“There are things I want to tell you one day,” Viktor said after long moments of silent contemplation. “Things that I’ve been avoiding, like that night you found me.”

“Vitya…”

“I want to,” Viktor insisted, forestalling any reassurance Yuuri might have offered.

“Okay, Vitya.”

“And I want to know more,” Viktor continued, reaching to clutch Yuuri’s free hand in both of his own. “Everything you can tell, as much as you can squeeze into this lifetime, I want to know.”

Yuuri laughed, startled and stunned.

“Of course, anything, but Vityenka, there’s no hurry. We have _lifetimes_. We can make new memories together; centuries and centuries of it so that the years I have behind me will never even compare. Unless the sun explodes or something, they do say that might – hey, you okay?”

Viktor’s hands were crushing Yuuri’s in between in them. The pain didn’t matter, but Yuuri was concerned by Viktor’s expression – he hadn’t said anything to warrant wild-eyed, open-mouthed shock.

Had he?

“Vitya?”

Viktor didn’t respond, only gaped at Yuuri.

Yuuri carefully extracted his captive hand, flexing it once before leaning forward to take Viktor’s face in his hands.

“Vitya, you’re worrying me.”

That garnered something of a reaction. Viktor blinked, once, twice, and then his breath let him in one sharp rush.

“Forever,” Viktor muttered, looking and sounding a little dazed.

“I – what? What are you saying?”

Viktor’s eyes focused, finally seeing Yuuri again.

“Oh, Yuuri, you always said – but I thought–”

Yuuri was starting to grow frustrated, a spark of fear crackling in his chest.

“Viktor, _please_.”

Viktor jumped a little at his tone, surprise flashing across his face again.

“I’m sorr–”

“I didn’t–”

They both paused.

“You first?” Yuuri asked. Viktor nodded.

“Might as well. I’m sorry too for, uh, worrying you. I was – I–” Viktor stuttered to a stop, frowning for an instant before it was smoothened out in an oddly blank expression. His blue eyes were burning. “It was shocking to hear you say we’ll have that long.”

“Why? I don’t understand. You know vampires live long.”

“I’m not a vampire.”

Look at that, it seemed the night’s conversation had circled back to precisely what Yuuri had been trying to address.

“Yet,” Yuuri said quietly, firmly. “We do need to talk about that.”

“Yet,” Viktor echoed. He was silent for a few heartbeats. “You’re right. We do need to talk about that. But not now. I – I can’t.”

Yuuri couldn’t help a twinge of disappointment but underlying it was a wealth of relief.

It sounded like Viktor had been as uncertain as Yuuri about their shared future. Maybe it was as reassuring for him as it was for Yuuri to have even a half-discussion like this. Maybe, maybe, maybe – it was all guesswork, wasn’t it?

Yuuri summoned a smile for Viktor.

“Alright,” he told him. “Later, when we’re ready.”

Viktor smiled. He looked very tired all of a sudden.

“Thank you, Yuuri.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” Yuuri said, puzzled.

Viktor just chuckled drily and threw his arms around Yuuri in an awkward hug.

“I’m so glad I’m your pet.”

Yuuri carded fingers through Viktor’s hair, resting the other hand on the back of Viktor’s neck.

“And my mate,” he added, murmuring the words into Viktor’s ear.

The arms around him tightened.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Half this fic is the just the two of them brooding, isn’t it? At least the misunderstanding is cleared up…not that Yuuri even knows it existed. Next chapter, we’ll wind up this little arc, but Viktor’s got a lot of thoughts to sort through first.
> 
> And as promised, I posted the first chapter of my new story. If you’re into demons and hunters and secrets, [give it a try.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13396365/chapters/30688473)


	16. i wake in terror, blackbirds screaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor takes late-night walks, gets dubious advice from Phichit, and is officially declared missing. And there's communication.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victuuri: Still going strong, still staying unhealthy
> 
>  **Warnings:**  
>  a. Thoughts and discussions of suicide and drowning  
> b. At one point, Phichit tells Viktor that trying to leave Yuuri won’t end well for him. Viktor barely even recognizes the fucked-upness of this statement for obvious reasons.

“You’re leaving?” Yuuri asked, looking up from the TV. Viktor spared a glance at the screen; a muted cooking show was on. Yuuri’s interest in those was weird – he didn’t even eat.

“Yeah,” Viktor replied, eyes skittering back to the pretty cake being decorated, unable to stay on the confused furrow of Yuuri’s brow. He’d been sporting the same expression whenever Viktor left on these late night walks. But he never said anything and never tried to stop him.

“Okay. Be careful.”

Viktor shot him a close-lipped smile and, still without looking, made his way out of their apartment.

Outside, he heaved a sigh. It didn’t help him relax.

He took the stairs instead of the elevator. Their place was only on the third floor and Viktor could use the exercise.

It was almost midnight and the air cool. Halloween decorations were everywhere, lending a distinctly creepy air to the night. There were a few days yet to the end of October. Maybe he should lay off on these walks until it was over. He was uncomfortably aware of this city’s murder rate and the infamous Devil’s Night; as was Yuuri judging by his poorly hidden worry whenever Viktor left and equally unconcealed relief when he returned in one piece.

But it was also likely that Yuuri’s concern was about the very existence Viktor’s newfound habit. Yuuri was no fool, for all that he could be oblivious at times. He must have made the connection between Viktor’s nightly wandering and their conversation the other week.

Then again, Viktor was no better when it came to obliviousness. That same conversation had proved as much.

Apparently, _forever_ was every bit as literal as he wasn’t expecting it to be.

The question now was whether he wanted it.

In hindsight, Yuuri’s intentions had always been obvious. From their days in Hasetsu, since their relationship had been cemented, even before love had been a concrete thing, Yuuri had casually remarked on Viktor’s presence in his future. Viktor hadn’t thought much of it then, simply happy to hear the words. And that could be excused because it would have been ludicrous to so much as consider eternity when what the two of them had had been new and tentative – their thoughts clouded by affection and obsession, both as fragile as they were precious.

The Viktor of then could be forgiven for not thinking of the future when life itself was being unraveled and reformed before his eyes.

After Detroit, he had no excuse.

_I’d say I’ve had my fill for a lifetime_

_We’ll wait till after one then._

_Are you saying you’ll love me forever?_

_Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying._

_I want you, always._

_I wanted to ask, it’s alright with you–_

Yuuri had always been talking in terms of forever.

It was Viktor who’d been convinced otherwise. No, it was Viktor who’d never let himself even consider anything but otherwise.

Guilt churned in him. He wished he’d just told Yuuri the truth all those days ago. But that would have required him to say why on earth he’d been so adamant to believe that Yuuri would only be with him until he died, and that was a conversation Viktor was avoiding even now.

A playground came into sight, familiar after over a week of this same route. A single street light shone on the empty slides and swings, casting odd shadows. The surrounding darkness seemed to loom. The first night, Viktor had taken one look at this place and turned on his heels to rush back to Yuuri. The second night, he’d spent a good fifteen minutes staring at the jungle gym and thinking of nothing. The third night onwards, he’d settled on the creaky swing set and let his mind drift to all the things he didn’t want to confront.

Tonight was no different.

He could brood more comfortably back home. He _did_ brood more comfortably back home since he didn’t, despite his most desperate wishes, exert complete control over his thoughts.

But Yuuri was almost always home and god, that man worried, and Viktor didn’t want to make it worse. It wasn’t fair for Yuuri to suffer from Viktor’s idiocy.

A tiny voice in his head helpfully pointed out that fleeing the apartment at odd hours did jackshit to stop Yuuri from fretting.

An even tinier, far more bitter voice muttered that if Yuuri was really so concerned, he’d say something, do something, _anything_ rather than watch with nervous eyes as Viktor worked himself into a contained mess.

Viktor graciously told both to fuck off, please and thank you.

What could Yuuri do anyway? It wasn’t like he even knew what was going on with Viktor. For all he knew, Viktor had acquiesced to being turned and then freaked out during their very next conversation on the matter.

His poor Yuuri, who seemed to believe that he and Viktor would be together until the sun blew up, must be so confused now.

The sentiment was sweet – the sweetest. Viktor’s heart still skipped a beat when he thought of how playfully Yuuri had offered that to him, eyes bright and mouth soft in his conviction that such a future awaited them.

Viktor just wished he could share that belief, that the thought of eternity filled him with warmth and security rather than unease and doubt. There was longing too, strange and wistful for what could be if only he had the courage to seize what was dangled right in front of him.

In the past, he would have done exactly that. He hadn’t made waves in figure skating from the time he was a teenager by being afraid to take risks. He’d thrived on surprises and no amount of failed relationships or injuries had deterred him, not until his very unpredictability had become predictable.

He’d been a legend in the making before he was twenty, an actual legend by twenty-four, and had thrown himself into an ocean at thirty.

How could he possibly face decades and centuries and maybe even millennia and keep himself _sane_?

 _Yuuri will be with you_ , offered the kinder part of his mind.

Yuuri loved Viktor deeply and had said in no uncertain terms that he would love Viktor forever. But so did Minako and Lilia according to Yuuri and look at them. Viktor wasn’t the easiest to handle. He knew how he could be. Yuuri might always love him, every bit as obsessive and possessive as he did now, but would the gentler parts remain a decade or ten later? Would he look at Viktor then and smile like he did now, sweet and a little shy, eyes crinkling and teeth flashing and so brightly, brilliantly beautiful?

He wanted to believe. He wished he could.

But Yuuri had only known him for a handful of months. For all that he seemed sure, could he really put up with Viktor for hundreds of years?

And if he couldn’t, would Viktor be able to go on?

He couldn’t really see it. His will to live had left him once, diminishing slowly and then all too suddenly, and he’d found himself choking on sea water, struggling and confused until the darkness took him away to a tenuous peace.

His life hadn’t flashed before his eyes but he had opened them in a strange room in the grasp of a man whom Viktor believed, utterly and wholeheartedly, he was blessed to meet.

That was another of the things he had yet to talk to Yuuri about. He’d managed to say he wanted to. And he did. Perhaps some time soon, he might even make the rest of the words come. But that day wasn’t today or tomorrow or even next week.

Viktor hunched into himself, cradling his head in his hands. His temples throbbed with the beginnings of a headache, likely from lack of sleep. He didn’t know why or when he went from sleeping too much to sleeping too little but honestly, he preferred the former. These black circles were not flattering no matter how well they matched his new hair.

Then again, bouts of insomnia weren’t uncommon for him. He’d taken care in the early years of his career to sleep as much was healthy for an athlete of his caliber but sometime between his third and fifth consecutive year as the undisputed champion, he’d taken to long walks at nights or early mornings with only Makkachin for company.

It had been nice, despite everything, to be able to press his face into her thick fur and pretend not to see the wetness left behind. She’d lick his face, and when he washed his face later, he could tell himself it was slobber and not tears drying on his cheeks.

He missed his girl.

She’d have loved Yuuri, animal aversion to vampires be damned. She’d have loved Yuuri and licked Viktor’s face and told him in no uncertain terms that he was being a colossal idiot and the three of them were of course going to be together until the sun burst, all the while wagging her cute tail.

He wiped his face and got up from the swing.

It was almost two. He should get back.

He walked a little faster on the way back. There were less people out now. He was cold and tired.

The apartment was silent when he returned. Yuuri sat ramrod straight on the couch, obviously waiting for Viktor. He relaxed a fraction when Viktor stepped inside but the tightness around his eyes and mouth didn’t quite disappear.

“Hey.”

“Hi. I’m back.”

“Mm. _Okaeri_.”

Viktor smiled at Yuuri’s distracted greeting. It pulled his lips in odd ways.

He realized he was just awkwardly hanging by the door way and moved towards Yuuri, coming to a stop in front of him. He wanted to sit beside him but something kept him standing. His arms twitched where they were pressed to his sides, itching to touch Yuuri.

“Halloween’s close,” Viktor said after long minutes of fleeting eye contact. They were only this awkward whenever he was back from these late excursions. Everything would go back to normal in the morning. “I think I’ll stay inside until it’s over.”

Yuuri bit his lip, nodding jerkily once.

“Yes, that’s probably best. It’s not just humans out there during this time.”

Viktor had considered that recently, idly and without much surprise.

“It makes sense for supernatural creatures to enjoy a day that celebrates their existence.”

That earned him the night’s first smile from Yuuri. It was faint and vanished as quickly as it came.

“I doubt the humans involved would be too happy to find that their imagined monsters are real after all.”

“I don’t know, I took it pretty well.”

Yuuri stood up, stepped closer to Viktor, close enough to touch. They didn’t touch.

“I keep telling you, Vitya. You’re special.”

Viktor closed his eyes. Took a deep breath.

“Vitya… Vitya, what’s – what are you…”

He waited for Yuuri to finish. No new words were forthcoming.

Viktor sighed and looked at Yuuri, finding him staring back with an expression that might be distress.

“Aren’t you going to ask, Yuuri?” Viktor asked, voice low and loaded.

Yuuri drew back as if burned.

“I don’t know what to say,” Yuuri said, looking down at his feet. “I don’t know what you’re thinking.”

“Yes, well, relationships usually don’t depend on mind reading.”

Dear god, what was he doing?

Yuuri’s gaze shot up, sharp and questioning as it bored into Viktor. He didn’t quail under its weight, only raised his chin and met beloved brown eyes with a plea dressed in defiance.

He just…wanted Yuuri to _say_ something, to _see_ Viktor.

“Something’s bothering you,” was all Yuuri said. “I didn’t want to push and make you uncomfortable.”

“There are times, Yuuri, when I want to be pushed.”

It was almost visible, the way Yuuri was flailing inside. Viktor didn’t love him for his deep well of empathy, that was for sure. It was still easy to forget sometimes, when Yuuri was sweet and kind and caring and just so perfect, that he was even more inexperienced that Viktor in maintaining a relationship.

All of a sudden, Viktor was very tired.

He brushed past Yuuri and collapsed on the couch, curling up on his side with his knees drawn to his chest. Yuuri remained as he was for a moment and then turned, cautiously eyeing Viktor as if he were a rabid animal.

Their fights were always so strange.

This wasn’t a fight though, was it? There was no yelling. There had barely been disagreements. Viktor was just irked that Yuuri wasn’t actually reading his mind while also not wanting him to read his mind.

He really needed that sleep.

“Sorry,” Viktor said with all the sincerity he could muster. “I’m being unfair.”

Yuuri didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he crouched down, fingers curling on the edge of the couch, inches away from Viktor’s face.

“Do you want some space? Should I leave?”

Viktor huffed a humorless chuckle.

“I’m tired of being alone. I don’t want to be alone.”

“…Okay. Can I touch you?”

“You can always touch me.”

Yuuri did, sliding a hand into Viktor’s hair and petting him just the way he liked. Hm, _pet_. He was Yuuri’s pet, at least for a particular definition of the word. But he didn’t feel it now. Weren’t pets supposed to be taken care of and not made to worry about things? Well, he was worrying.

But given the choice between pet and mate, Viktor knew what he would pick.

“I’m not fully sure what I did wrong,” Yuuri murmured. His face was so close now, lips brushing Viktor’s forehead with every word. “I’m sorry, Vityenka. I’ll try to be better.”

 _No you won’t_ , Viktor thought, weirdly fond. _My useless vampire_.

“I love you anyway,” he added out loud.

“Um. Thank you? You too.”

Yuuri’s hands cupped Viktor’s face. He mourned the loss of soothing fingers in his hair and protested the cold hand that slid between one cheek and the couch and gently raised his face for Yuuri to better see. Thumbs stroked under his eyes, making Viktor shiver.

“You look so tired,” Yuuri said. “Do you want to take a few days off work?”

Viktor shook his head mutely. Yuuri didn’t really like Phichit’s bookstore, did he? Must be all the werewolves. Viktor wasn’t particularly attached but talking regularly to people was nice, and he really shouldn’t be given too much time to think nowadays.

“Ah, alright then. I’m, uh, not really sure what’s happening but – it’s going to be okay, Vitya. Everything will be fine.”

_It’s not alright. It’s not fine. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but I don’t know if I can spend the rest of eternity with you._

He didn’t say anything, just nuzzled into Yuuri’s hands and let his eyes slip shut.

They had to talk.

Not tonight. Viktor was tired.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he heard Yuuri say before his face was released. He made – or tied to make – some noise of dissent, but then arms slid under his body, gently and easily lifting him. He threw his arms around Yuuri without opening his eyes and tucked his face into the crook of his neck, relishing the intimacy of this as Yuuri carried him to their bed and crawled in with him, pulling the covers over them both.

The future was murky and intimidating.

For now though, Viktor had this.

He drifted off in Yuuri’s arms.

 

* * *

 

“You look like a damn raccoon, Anthony.”

Viktor gasped, almost losing hold of the book in his hands. The day had been slow, nearly no customers, and Viktor had been glad to be able to just relax behind the counter and do some reading of his own. He’d have tried to sneak in a nap, but his work ethic didn’t allow for that.

Besides, the book, an anthology of _actual_ vampire romances, was interesting. Depressing and destructive, but interesting.

He just wished he hadn’t become so absorbed in the stories that he embarrassed himself like this, in front of Phichit of all people.

“Sorry, sorry,” Viktor said sheepishly, ignoring Phichit’s words as he did. “I didn’t know you were back.”

Phichit had been in New York for the last two weeks on photography related matters. A friend’s wedding, if Viktor remembered right.

“Of course I’m back! You don’t think I’m going to miss Halloween, do you? Ciao ciao and I never pass up an opportunity to turn our house into a horror mansion. He did most of the work this year, but I’m sure he’s saved some for me. Do you and Yuuri have plans?”

Viktor blinked, absently eyeing the elegant cut of Phichit’s dress as he thought of how to best articulate his and Yuuri’s plans in an appropriate way.

 _I plan to dribble blood over my neck and fuck him into oblivion and have my mind blown afterward_ didn’t quite translate into more polite terms. Not that he thought Phichit would mind if Viktor were to blurt the sordid details but…

“Woah, are you blushing?”

Phichit braced his forearms on the counter and peered closely at Viktor’s face.

“Uh…”

“Care to share what you were thinking?”

“No, not really.”

Phichit pouted, most of the effect ruined by the mirth in his eyes.

“You and Yuuri deprive me greatly, Vi – Anthony.”

“We’re the only ones here, you can call me Viktor.”

“Better safe than sorry. Speaking of which, where is Yuuri?”

“He doesn’t work on Tuesdays.”

“Ah, yeah, I forget these things.”

Phichit hefted himself on to the counter. It was sturdy wood and Phichit clambered on top with a fluid nimbleness that made even the possibility of falling seem impossible. Viktor was reminded of the way Yuuri moved sometimes, with a sort of grace that was as eerie as it was enchanting.

Viktor settled back down on his chair, looking up at Phichit who was sitting cross-legged facing him.

“Back to the original topic, you look exhausted. Yuuri working you too hard?”

Viktor snorted. He _wished_. Yuuri had turned infuriatingly soft-handed since Viktor’s tiredness manifested physically and obviously. The tenderness was nice sometimes but other times, Viktor really just wanted to be thrown about and taken.

Well, he’d hopefully fix that tomorrow.

“I’m fine,” he told Phichit. “Just not getting much sleep.”

“Which again begs the question of what Yuuri’s doing. Did he forget that humans don’t have a vampire’s, uh, stamina?”

Phichit actually waggled his eyebrows. It was kind of horrifying.

“No. He’s very considerate of my…limits. I’m only – anyway, Phichit, remember what I asked about Yuuri?”

Dark eyes lit up and Phichit leaned forward, the position precarious at best.

“His birthday?!”

“You said it was on the 29th of November but when I asked him, he just said that he doesn’t even know the year he was turned, let alone the date.”

“Well, yeah, we don’t know the date. November 29 was a date I randomly picked a few decades back. I’m sure I had a very wise reason for it but honestly, I was drunk on like ten bottles of wine. My husband can’t handle his alcohol so he’s no use either. But Minako approved, and Yuuri didn’t flee immediately the handful of times we threw him a party, so it just stuck.”

“Parties, huh?”

Viktor had his own plans that did not involve parties. But if Phichit insisted, he could rework some things.

“There won’t be one this year,” Phichit said promptly. “Years don’t really matter to vamps and Yuuri in particular hates it when we make a big deal out of things. A couple of years back, before he headed out to Hasetsu, we celebrated his…four hundred and something something birthday so now I’ve gotta wait at least seven years before panning another. You’re free to use whatever filthy plan you’ve hatched.”

Viktor felt his ears heat.

“I’m not – well maybe I am but don’t tell him? I want it to be a surprise.”

Phichit grinned. It was uncanny how such an angelic a face could look so wicked. Though after years of exposure to Yuri and his scowls, Viktor really shouldn’t be surprised.

“My lips are sealed. And ask if you need any help. Yuuri’s so hyperfocused on you, it must be hard to spring a surprise on him.”

He had a point. Viktor basked in that attention though, and that hadn’t changed in spite of recent troubles.

However, this whole conversation had brought Viktor’s thoughts right to a matter that was never far from his mind these days.

“Hey, Phichit, have you met a lot of vampires?”

“Nah, just Yuuri and Minako. I’ve seen others of course but they’re typically not friendly with werewolves.” Phichit tilted his head quizzically, his smile taking on a questioning tint. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason. I’m just curious.

Phichit’s eyes narrowed, piercing into Viktor. He held them, molding his face into practiced blankness.

“I call bullshit, Nik-Okukawa. I don’t look it but I’m old enough to be your grandfather, my man.”

Viktor took in Phichit’s pretty face and supple body that practically screamed _youth_. His rational mind could accept that Yuuri and Phichit and their like did not wear their age on their skin but that didn’t make it any easier to look at a man who appeared younger than Viktor and imagine a wise old man.

“Right,” he said faintly. “Look, there’s really no reason, I’ve been reading and just got curious, I guess.”

Phichit didn’t seem too convinced by that answer but at least stopped staring at Viktor to examine the anthology he’d been reading.

“Oh, I remember this one. Minako donated it. It was written by a vampire and the stories are all real.” He glanced over at Viktor. “Fascinating reading but, well, they don’t really paint the happiest picture of vampire love.”

Viktor grimaced. Most of the couples and triads in the book were vampires themselves but occasionally, there was a human or shape-shifter or witch involved. The latter kind usually died. The vampires died too but that was rare. Mostly, the people around them did

That wasn’t what scared him though.

It was the fact that, no matter how sweetly the love affairs began, they always ended in anger and anguish.

“This was written by some bitter bastard,” Phichit continued, blind to the turn of Viktor’s thoughts. “You know it’s not always like this, right?”

…or maybe not so blind after all.

“I wouldn’t know,” Viktor replied. “Yuuri and Lilia are the only vampires I know. I’m hardly unbiased about Yuuri and as for Lilia, I grew up amidst her issues with my coach, and now that I’ve heard about her and Minako, I don’t really get the impression of the happiest love life.”

“Ah, yeah, Lilia, I forgot you knew her. But still, I’ve heard of plenty of vampires who are happy together after centuries. Even seen a couple. I’m not saying it’s easy. Relationships never are – I should know – and the whole living forever deal doesn’t always help. Plus you know how vampires are.”

Viktor nodded.

“I was under the impression you liked the way Yuuri felt about you, Viktor.”

“I do. I love it. So much but–”

He closed his mouth, forcing himself to be quiet. Phichit was nice and Viktor liked him, but he was not going to spill his worries to Yuuri’s friend rather than talk about them to Yuuri himself. He wasn’t even close to Phichit.

Phichit sighed, looking between the book and Viktor.

“Listen, Viktor, I don’t know what’s going on. But I like you, and I love Yuuri, but I’m not blind to the way he is. I really hope you don’t plan to leave him because, in all honesty, I don’t think he’s going to let you. It’s not gonna be pretty.”

Viktor gaped at Phichit who returned his stare with a composure that didn’t fully hide the nervous shifting of his eyes.

Then he laughed.

He clutched his chest and laughed until he couldn’t breathe, trying and failing to actually imagine leaving Yuuri. He was never going to leave Yuuri. What would he even do afterward? Jump into another ocean? Yuuri was his life and his love.

When he calmed down enough to look properly at Phichit, he found him gawking at Viktor with a befuddled expression.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m Yuuri’s. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I…see.”

Viktor wiped away the tears at the corners off his eyes.

“Do you think Yuuri’s going to leave you?” Phichit asked, frowning. Viktor froze, smiling slipping.

“No.” His voice came out lower than intended. He cleared his throat. “No, he told me he wouldn’t. I believe him. It’s really nothing complicated, Phichit. I see all these things about vampires being bad at love and worry.”

That was mostly a lie. Yuuri had never framed his love as something that might deteriorate over time, speaking instead of how it might remain too strong. He’d promised to never stop and reaffirmed it again and again. And Viktor believed him except in those moments when doubts crowded his mind. But it wasn’t like he was going to confess his own inadequacies and insecurities to Phichit. If it were that easy, he’d be confiding in Yuuri as he desperately wanted to.

“Thanks, Phichit. And don’t worry, we’re fine.”

Phichit squinted at him for another moment and then shrugged, a sunny smile spreading across his face.

“Alright! In any case, you can leave. I’ll handle the rest of the day.”

Viktor looked the clock.

“But it’s only three, there are hours left until closing.”

“Tomorrow’s Halloween, Viktor. And you know what this place is.” Phichit winked. “We’re going to have a proper party. You and Yuuri are welcome, you know.”

“I don’t think Yuuri would like that. Neither would I.”

It was well and good to meet and greet Phichit’s wolves and the occasional fae while working here during the day, but that one night-time gathering Viktor had gone to had stripped him off any desire to attend another. He stood out too much and not in a good way.

“Your loss,” Phichit sighed, sliding off the counter. Viktor stood up, vacating the chair for Phichit.

“Bye, Phichit. Happy Halloween in advance.”

“You too. Go get your batboy.”

Viktor replayed the awkward talk with Phichit as he made his way back home. On one hand, it was great to see someone who’d known Yuuri for so long be so convinced of Yuuri’s love for Viktor and its longevity. On the other, that didn’t really help solve Viktor’s problem. It had felt right at the time to redirect the conversation to vampire romance, but the question Viktor had almost asked was whether the vampires Phichit knew were content in their immortality.

That would have given away too much though. And it didn’t even matter if Phichit didn’t know many of them.

He was painfully aware that the best course of action would be to just ask Yuuri. But–

Well, he would.

Eventually.

He expected to find Yuuri curled up reading or on the internet, but instead he came home to the aroma of what was undoubtedly human food. Some days, Yuuri ordered takeout to spare Viktor from cooking, but as he shed his coat and walked into the living room, fingers busy with the buttons of his shirt, he found Yuuri standing frozen by the door to the kitchen gaping at Viktor with spatula in his hand and flour on his cheek.

Viktor blinked and stared. Rubbed his eyes and stared some more.

Nothing changed. Yuuri was still in an apron with a spatula in his hand and flour on his cheek.

“Are you…cooking?”

Yuuri looked a little wild around the eyes.

“You aren’t supposed to be here!”

“I – no, Phichit came back, let me leave early. I think they’re having a party. We’re invited.”

“Huh?”

“I told him we probably wouldn’t come,” Viktor supplied helpfully. He finished taking off his shirt, curbing the urge to peek into the kitchen and see what Yuuri had been preparing. The salty egg incident was still fresh in his mind, but there was something inherently adorable about Yuuri cooking for Viktor. The man had no sense of taste and no head for proportions, and yet he tried so hard.

“So, what were you making?” Viktor asked, careless depositing his shirt on the couch. Yuuri’s eyes wasted no time roaming over the newly revealed skin. Viktor puffed up proudly.

“Pancakes,” Yuuri mumbled, looking over his shoulder, presumably at whatever he’d made. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Viktor could feel every ounce of the helpless, hopeless adoration in the smile that stole over his lips.

“Consider me surprised. And delighted.”

Yuuri just shook his head, tapping the spatula against his leg.

“But it’s not – I wanted to give myself time to throw it away if it sucked.”

Viktor crossed over to Yuuri in a few long strides and threw his arms around him, squishing Yuuri against him. Cold lips grumbled a protest against his neck, but Yuuri returned the embrace with little hesitance. Now he was tapping Viktor’s ass with the spatula but that had its own charm.

“You cooked for me,” Viktor cooed at Yuuri, grinning into his hair. “That’s so sweet, Yuuri.”

“God, you’re easy to please.”

“I’m always easy for you.”

Yuuri chuckled, a cold burst of hair hitting Viktor’s throat, right by his pulse. Yuuri must be hungry. If Viktor had his way, Yuuri would be all warm and flushed tomorrow. Best Halloween ever. Never mind that he’d never celebrated the thing before. Maybe next year, he’d dress up properly; something appropriately filthy to make Yuuri lose his mind.

“Why though?” Viktor asked when Yuuri pulled back, returning to the kitchen. He followed, hovering behind Yuuri as he fiddled with a plate stacked with steaming pancakes. Some were a bit darker than others but none looked nor smelled burnt.

“I wanted to do something for you,” Yuuri answered, gazing intently at the pancakes. “I can’t really make anything complicated. But I watched a lot of cooking shows and read recipes and was careful with my measurements and well, these look _okay_.”

“I’m sure they’re delicious, Yuuri,” Viktor told him.

 _I’d eat powdered charcoal if you served it to me_ , he did not say. He wanted Yuuri to believe him if he said the food was good. And this time, he’d be honest. No more forcing down too much salt. Yuuri had worked too hard and looked too earnest for Viktor to lie to him.

Thinking about it, he was fairly sure that this was at least partly to comfort Viktor in his recent duress. Yuuri didn’t even know what it was, but he was still doing things like this, trying to be good and Viktor–

He couldn’t make himself even entertain the idea that Yuuri might tire of him, not when he responded to Viktor’s less pretty sides with quietly kind gestures like this.

Even if he was sort of clueless, he was also so sweet.

“Vitya? Vitya! Why are you crying?”

Yuuri was in front of him all of a sudden, food abandoned in favor of cradling Viktor’s face with a delicacy that scorched through his skin and seeped deep into his bones. Yuuri’s face was blurry through his tears and Viktor closed his eyes, clutching Yuuri by the shoulders and letting himself relax as the wetness was wiped off his face.

“I’m–” _Happy_? No, not quite. He was happy, but he was also confused. In this precise moment though, he was just overwhelmingly moved. “I’m lucky. So lucky, Yuuri.”

Yuuri didn’t say anything, only gathered Viktor close, guiding him to rest his head on Yuuri’s shoulder. Viktor clung to him.

He hadn’t been touching Yuuri as much these past couple of weeks. Mostly they touched when they slept and when they had sex. He needed this. He clung tighter.

Yuuri silently held him until Viktor felt calmer, more grounded. He gently detached himself from Yuuri, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth as he drew away.

“Well, Yuuri, feed me.”

“They’re probably cold now.”

“Don’t care, I’m hungry.”

Yuuri gave him a dubious look but obediently retrieved the pancakes, placing them alongside a pitcher of water and a bottle of syrup on the dining table. Viktor was taken by the hand and led there, Yuuri even going so far as to pull out the chair for him.

“What a gentleman,” he quipped and got flicked on his forehead for his trouble.

“Shut up and eat.”

Viktor ate.

They were soft and fluffy, a little too sweet but he liked that. They were _good_.

Viktor finished his first one and beamed at Yuuri who was watching him with a nervous slant to his brows.

“ _Vkusno_! I love it.”

Yuuri opened his mouth but said nothing, only closed them into a small, shy smile.

“Thank you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri shook his head, leaning down to kiss Viktor’s cheek.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Vitya. It’s nothing.”

He turned his head to catch Yuuri’s mouth with his own, raising a hand to grip his shirt. Yuuri hummed into the kiss, angling his head to better reciprocate, licking along the seam of Viktor’s lips and then inside, sucking softly on his tongue until the sweetness of the food was chased way and replaced by the sharp taste of Yuuri’s mouth.

Pancakes forgotten, Viktor kissed back, heart pounding against his ribs and stomach clenching as the first tendrils of arousal threaded through his body.

Yuuri tried to break the kiss, but Viktor didn’t let go that easy, sinking his teeth into Yuuri’s plump bottom lip and holding him captive, pleased at the rumbling groan that earned him.

“I’ll return the favor tomorrow,” Viktor said, opening his eyes to pin Yuuri with a promise. “I’ll be the one feeding you, Y _uu_ ri.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened and then narrowed, red bleeding messily into brown.

Viktor winked, pecked him on the nose, and returned to his pancakes.

 

* * *

 

When Lilia had told him in September that she would take care of things in Russia, Viktor hadn’t expected that he would hear, over a month later, that Viktor Nikiforov, retired skater and coach of Yuri Plisetsky, was officially reported missing.

It had been seven months since he left Russia, over three since they left Hasetsu and all of his contact with Yakov and Chris ceased.

It could just be that they genuinely grew concerned and reported him missing but something, namely the link Lilia had sent him of a news article covering his mysterious disappearance, told him that wasn’t the case.

Viktor felt a twinge of guilt over not talking to Yakov personally. Still, there was some comfort to be found in knowing that Lilia had probably filled him in on what happened. If Yakov truly did know Lilia was a vampire and that Viktor was off gallivanting with another vampire, then the only likely explanation for him not bringing down their apartment door was that Lilia was keeping him away. She was the only person who’d ever been able to placate – or simply stare down – Yakov when he was in a temper.

Then there was Mila and Yuri, the only two of Yakov’s remaining students whom Viktor had been rinkmates with. Viktor couldn’t think of Yuri without remembering the betrayal and horror with which he’d looked at Viktor and hearing Lilia’s words – _blank spots in his memory and a vampire’s scent on him_ – and so he didn’t, pushing down the guilt and sorrow. That whole incident had only proved that Yuri was better off without Viktor. Mila was less complicated. Sure, she’d worry – he’d seen the messages she’d sent to his old number and all social media accounts before he wiped it all and chucked that phone to the depths of a river. But she’d get over it eventually, as would the world.

That left only Chris and Viktor wished he could have given the only friend he’d had left by the end of his career more closure than the hasty apology and farewell he’d managed on his last day in Hasetsu. But it wasn’t like there had been any explanations he could give even if he’d been inclined to give them.

The press had been speculating over his status since before Yuri came to Japan despite Yakov’s insistence that he was fine and just on a vacation. This missing report was only confirming what quite a number of people had already believed.

He’d be old news eventually.

The same possibility that had once terrified him now only flooded with him relief.

The door to the bedroom flew open, hitting the wall with a loud bang. Viktor jumped, plastering himself against the headboard, only to relax as quickly when he saw that it was just Yuuri, looming in the doorway with wide eyes.

“You saw the news, didn’t you?”

“Phichit messaged me,” Yuuri said, voice louder than usual. “Minako too. I don’t even know how she figured it out.”

Viktor took one last look at the article on his phone screen. The header image was of him kissing his last Worlds medal. His smile look fake, his eyes empty. He barely recognized this man.

“Farewell, Viktor Nikiforov,” he murmured. “Yuuri, how long would it be before I’m presumed dead?”

It was possible that he sounded far more cheerful than that question warranted because Yuuri’s face creased in a frown. He moved slower than he could as he made his way over to the bed, his gaze cautious where it rested on Viktor, almost as if expecting him to act out any moment.

Viktor smiled.

“I know what you’re thinking. I’m not upset.”

Yuuri sat down on the bed. Viktor put away his computer and shuffled over to him, taking Yuuri’s hand the moment he was close enough.

“You’re not worried about the renewed attention? People and police are probably looking for you.”

“A little worried, but I don’t really think it’ll cause much trouble. Besides, I was just thinking that this is only confirming a theory a lot of people already had. I checked up on my fans during Yura’s time in Hasetsu but even then, there were a lot of theories about my disappearance and possible death. This way, it’s official. Soon, I’ll be just another lost celebrity.”

Yuuri relaxed visibly, the tenseness leaving his body. His hand squeezed Viktor’s.

“Good. You know Lilia has something to do with this, don’t you?”

“Yep. She’s the one who messaged me the news. I have no idea how she got my number.”

“She has her ways. At least this means we can trust her to take care of things like she promised.”

Viktor hoped that meant any of the discrepancies in his case – and of that, there were many – would get swept under the rug.

“They’ll probably track you to Hasetsu.”

“But they won’t get any further, right? That’s why we were so careful leaving.”

“Probably, yes. Yuri only ever found us by happenstance.” Yuuri pursed his lips, yet another frown flickering across his expression. “Vitya, are you really fine with this? You old life and the people you knew, they’ll all believe you’re well and truly gone. You can’t return anymore.”

Viktor knew all of that, and Yuuri knew he knew. Yet, here he was, looking at Viktor with that bothersome furrow between his eyes, like he thought the finality of this would suddenly make Viktor change his mind.

“That’s the point, Yuuri,” Viktor said, voice firm but happy. “Viktor Nikiforov is dead.”

He chuckled, falling back on the mattress. He spread his hands and feet wide, splaying his body on the bed. Yuuri didn’t waste any time moving closer. He didn’t lie on top of Viktor like he wanted, instead sitting by his head with a hand on Viktor’s shoulder.

Viktor looked at him. It was impossible to tire of looking at Yuuri; beautiful, soft Yuuri. Now, Viktor looked and saw quiet nights in a small town, calm days in a big city and a future that remained uncertain but held infinite possibilities, some good, some bad, some vague.

Viktor Nikiforov was dead.

But Viktor was still here, and he had a full life ahead of him.

It was time to put old ghosts to rest.

“Maybe he died that day in Hasetsu, Yuuri. You pulled a dead man out of the water and gave him new life. You never did tell me why.”

Yuuri made a shocked noise, mouth parting over a sharp inhale as he stared down at Viktor with disbelieving eyes. It was simple to understand why. That night was not something they talked about except in accidental references that were promptly glossed over. It was certainly not a matter that Viktor himself actively sought to discuss.

A part of him still didn’t want to.

But the man he had been then was not the man he was now. He was not unaware that he wasn’t _better_. That would mean returning to everything he’d fled from, confronting the demons that had driven him away and rebuilding his life into something sensible, safe and _normal_.

Wrapping his existence so tightly around a vampire’s until neither of them could breathe without that bondage was neither better nor normal.

He wouldn’t give this up for the world. His place was with Yuuri.

And no matter what, Viktor was no longer the same as he’d been when he saw a strange ocean made dark by the night and deemed it an invitation for peace and rest. He didn’t want to die anymore. He just didn’t want to live without Yuuri.

The undead love of his life was still staring uncertainly at Viktor. The hand on his shoulder clenched and unclenched rhythmically, sometimes painfully. Yuuri was so easy to read once he let himself be expressive.

“Hey, Yuuri, let’s go for a walk.”

“Huh?”

 

* * *

 

Viktor led him to the playground.

The walk there was silent. It was only nine and there were more people out than during Viktor’s prior strolls. He walked hand in hand with Yuuri, swinging their entwined arms between them with a bubbly cheer that Yuuri passively accepted. Viktor pretended not to see the concerned glances Yuuri shot him every few minutes.

The playground was deserted and there weren’t many people in the area, creating an impression of privacy.

Viktor sat down on his swing and, when Yuuri continued to just stand and stare, gestured at the one beside him. Yuuri cast a dubious look at the contraption but complied, sitting down to the grating creak of rusty chains. Viktor rested his cheek against the chain on his right, ignoring its freezing sting, to take in the sight of Yuuri perched awkwardly on the swing, fingers curled delicately around the chains. He probably didn’t even feel the cold.

“The last time I came here was the weekend before Halloween. It’s colder already.”

Yuuri hummed, looking over at Viktor. His hair was falling out of its gelled elegance, a few errant strands splaying over his forehead. He was unfairly gorgeous even in this light.

Viktor knew he didn’t remember the first time he’d laid eyes on Yuuri. He recalled none of his first two days under Yuuri’s care, and yet he had been conscious at times, even lucid once or twice. He’d called Yuuri pretty. He’d mistaken him for Makkachin. He’d mumbled things Yuuri had not understood. And when he woke, he’d latched onto Yuuri’s kindness and never unlatched himself.

It hadn’t been love or even lust at first sight. Interest maybe. Desperation, certainly. Love had come later but love hadn’t been needed to make Yuuri mesmerizing, magnetic with his red-stained eyes and tinkling laughter. Viktor had been caught in his pull from the start, had never had a chance in hell of escape.

But what had Yuuri seen in a man whom he’d pulled from the ocean? Better yet, what had compelled Yuuri to save him in the first place? Until now, Viktor hadn’t thought to ask. Why would he, when he was trying so hard not to think of it and even harder not to talk of it?

“Yuuri?” What was the saying – like ripping off a band-aid? “Why did you save me that night?”

Unlike before, Yuuri didn’t outwardly react to Viktor bringing this up. He must have guessed where this was heading. He was smart, his Yuuri. Blind, sometimes, but Viktor liked that too somehow.

“I don’t know.”

For a moment, Viktor didn’t comprehend.

Then he did and that was worse.

He didn’t yell in outrage or ask if Yuuri was sure. The way he said it, quiet but definite, left no room for doubt.

“Care to explain?” he asked instead. Because there had to be some kind of explanation. He knew Yuuri, knew he wasn’t the type to go around pulling drowning men from seas out of the goodness of his heart. There was little goodness in his heart and none to spare on suicidal strangers.

Yuuri licked his lips and looked away, leaning back on his seat until his feet lifted off the ground. He balanced like that on the swing with apparent ease, gazing up at the crescent moon that peeked out from under the clouds. It was pretty, but Viktor was more interested in watching Yuuri.

“I was surprised to see someone out so late. I think that’s why I kept watching in the first place. Hasetsu was slowly starting to bore me – well, more than was welcome anyway. You were a brief curiosity, alone and lonely out on the beach. And then you walked into the waves and never came out.”

Viktor’s chest burned. He sucked in a breath, barely blinking, loath to take his eyes off Yuuri who continued to watch the sky with an odd half-smile.

“Would you believe me if I say I never thought about why I saved you? There was no time when it happened and later, there were other, more important things on mind. You crashed into my life and suddenly, I was having the biggest adventure of my life within the four walls of my home. And that – _home_ , that’s on you. I’ve had houses. Many of them. Never a home, not before you.”

“I know.” Home used to be ice under his feet and cheers in his ears, doggy kisses and warm fur. Now, home was Yuuri. “I know.”

“I’m sure this isn’t the answer you wanted. But all I can tell you is that, looking back now, I can’t conceive a reality where I didn’t pull you out and into my life.” Yuuri straightened, standing so that he could lift his legs over the swing and straddle it while facing Viktor. “You were meant to be mine, Vitya.”

Viktor shuddered with a shaky exhale.

If he strained, he could reach over and touch Yuuri. He did, brushing gloved fingertips over soft lips that quirked in a smile.

“Yes. Yes, of course I was.”

Viktor wasn’t disappointed anymore. There was a stark difference between Yuuri saving him on a whim and Yuuri saving him under the same mystifying pull that Viktor had felt from the very start.

“Do you think it was fate?” Viktor mused, pulling his hand back and touching those fingers to his own lips. He fancied that he could feel the pleasant bite of Yuuri’s chill. “I’ve never believed in it.”

“Neither have I.” Yuuri’s smile abruptly widened, brightening into a grin that stole the breath from Viktor’s lungs. “I would be willing to, if it means I get to have you.”

Viktor chucked, immeasurably fond.

“You have me. Fate or chance, it’s doesn’t matter, you’ll al – you have me.”

Yuuri’s eyes flashed, not missing Viktor’s slip. But he didn’t comment even as his smile dwindled into a faint, barely there thing.

“I love you,” Viktor felt the need to add. An apology, maybe. “I always will.”

That he could promise over and over and over, meaning every sound, every punctuating breath.

Yuuri bowed his head, resigned and accepting.

“You haven’t told me either,” he said after a pregnant pause. “I don’t know what that night meant to you.”

Viktor came here intending to talk about this. He hadn’t expected it to be easy. But now, looking at Yuuri who sits with his eyes on the grass and a melancholic smile, the words come surprisingly easily.

“I was tired. But I wasn’t planning to die. That night was the second time I left my hotel in Hasetsu. I’d been there for days and had done nothing but sleep and wallow. Sometimes, I ate. I was…disgusted with myself. So, that day, I forced myself to get out and go about. I know I wandered for hours, but I really don’t remember a thing. Only going to Yu-topia and then going down to the beach. I don’t…I don’t really know. Thoughts were strange, then. I don’t–”

A touch on his hand; Yuuri, reaching over the scant space between their swings to lay his cold hand over Viktor’s where it was clenched around the chain. For a moment, he only stared blankly at the sight. Yuuri’s skin was a shade darker than his own. Viktor was the one pale as snow and yet Yuuri was the vampire. He liked the discrepancy.

He liked most things about the two of them.

Yuuri kept silent and after a while, Viktor continued.

“I was half in the ocean before I realized I didn’t plan to come back up. At the time, all I remember is relief. It would end. Finally. I didn’t have to be tired anymore.”

Yuuri’s nails, blunt and clipped, dug into the back of Viktor’s hand. The unintentional hurt was strangely grounding.

“I don’t remember much else. Fear, yes, gasping for air and getting water instead…” He screwed his eyes shut, bit out a breath. He didn’t need to talk about this, did he?

The water, as dark as the night and twice as damning…it didn’t matter. Yuuri had saved him.

“Next thing I know, I’m in your house. I was so confused.”

“Were you unhappy?” Yuuri asked, his first words since Viktor had begun speaking. His voice was hoarse in that way it got when he held his breath for a long time. “That you lived – were you?”

“Then? I don’t know. I didn’t remember what I‘d done, what I’d tried to do, at first. By the time I did, you were there and I couldn’t take my eyes or my mind off you.”

“And later?”

Viktor laughed, a single short splash of sound that rang too loud on their little bubble of strained silence.

“Oh, my Yuuri, I still haven’t taken my eyes or my mind off you. You make me want to live.”

He felt Yuuri’s spasm and then it was gone. Before he could miss it, Yuuri had moved, kneeling on the grass in front of Viktor. He was close enough to touch Viktor but didn’t, only gazed up at him with dark eyes that shone.

“ _Only_ you make me want to live,” Viktor whispered, giving air to a truth that had been known to him for so, so long.

“Vityenka.”

Viktor waited for more. He trusted Yuuri, loved him, worshipped him but still, he expected anything from outrage to astonishment.

None came. Yuuri only repeated the name again, voice achingly soft as it caressed each sound.

Viktor’s breath hitched. Yuuri was blurry now. He licked his lips and tasted salt.

“Sorry,” he muttered, wiping at his face. “I’m so–”

A finger pressed to his mouth, Yuuri reaching up to silence him. Viktor looked at him and smiled when Yuuri shook his head. There was wetness on his face too, red-tinged tears trailing down his cheeks.

“Ah, I’ve made you cry. What a disaster, hm? I’m something of a trainwreck, aren’t I?”

In his mind, it sounded light and jovial, incongruous perhaps with the mood but a needed change all the same. It came out drastically different, low and rough and broken, syllable dragging hot spurs up his throat and down his tongue as they slid out, leaving behind carnage and helplessness.

Yuuri’s response was swift and shocking in its vehemence.

“ _So what?_ A trainwreck? Fine. Then you’re the most beautiful disaster I’ve seen. The most stunning catastrophe I’ve loved. That’s enough, isn’t it? You said I’m what keeps you alive. And I will adore you until we both end.”

Yuuri’s eyes were wide and ferocious as they stared up at Viktor, threads of red gleaming from amidst shining brown. Viktor released his death grip on the swing chain, pressing his cold palm to his mouth.  The other rose to rest on his heart, felt it pounding fast and hard.

“Yuuri!” he gasped from between his fingers, choked up, tears clogging his throat as they slid freely down his face.

After all this time, he shouldn’t be surprised that Yuuri just _said_ these things.

But he was.

It seemed impossible time after time that Yuuri, in his own, twisted way, always gave Viktor everything he needed and everything he didn’t know he needed.

Viktor stretched his tear-stained hand towards his lover down on his knees, and Yuuri moved as if that had been all he’d been waiting for, lurching up unsteadily to throw himself at Viktor. They fell, the swing sliding out from under him. Yuuri’s hands protected Viktor’s skull but pain lanced up the base of his spine, spilling from his lips in a plaintive cry. Yuuri instantly started mumbling apologies into his ear, trying to draw back, but Viktor held fast, turning his head to press wet, messy kisses to Yuuri’s neck and up to his ear, nosing against the thick softness of his hair with a sigh.

Eventually, Yuuri did pull back, breaking the circle of Viktor’s arms with an effortless push. He loomed over Viktor, elbows on either side of his head. Darkness shrouded a good half of Yuuri’s face but Viktor didn’t even have to close his eyes to imagine the look he would see there.

“Thank you,” Viktor told him, reaching up to trace the line of Yuuri’s lips. They curved against his fingers, soft.

“What for?”

“Everything.”

Yuuri fell silent again. Viktor danced his fingertips over his mouth, cheeks, nose, eyes.

“Have you ever resented me?”

 _For what_ , Viktor wanted to ask, even though he knew the answer.

_For saving me, keeping me, loving me?_

“Never,” he answered simply.

Yuuri’s shuddering breath brushed against his thumb.

“I apologize for presuming.”

Viktor felt a split-second of confusion before he registered, with the clarity born of dwelling for a small eternity on a question that had no answer, what Yuuri was apologizing for.

“I’m sorry too. It’s not – I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I can’t even fathom leaving you. I don’t know what I’ll do if you leave me. But Yuuri, what you’re implying, what you’re offering – it’s not years or decades but centuries.” Viktor stopped, nudging Yuuri off him so he could sit up. Pain twinged along his back but he ignored it. Yuuri tried to scramble back to his feet but Viktor tugged him back down, grasping him by the biceps.

They were both in an awkward sprawl, legs to the side and balancing on each other, but like this, he could see Yuuri’s face – expression pinched but eyes gentle.

The words weren’t easy, but they had to be said. Yuuri needed to know that Viktor wasn’t rejecting him. He only needed what Yuuri had promised from the start.

Time.

But time had very different connotations for a human than a vampire.

“Yuuri, I lived a charmed life since I was fourteen. For the longest time, I couldn’t even understand what was wrong with me because it made no sense for me to be sad when I had everything I ever dreamed of. You saw how that life ended. In a no-name town in Japan, with a sea and a vampire. And I adore you, my love, I always will, but I’m scared. The idea of spending forever with you is the sweetest thing I could ever conceive of but _can I_? Will I last in that life? I don’t know and I can’t – I –”

The words stopped and Viktor slumped, breathing hard like he’d ran a marathon.

Yuuri stared at him, white teeth set on a pink lip.

“I understand,” Yuuri finally said. “Well, I don’t, not quite, but choosing to be what I am isn’t something many do. It changes us. It would change you. I’m scared too. But I never thought about it either, not before Lilia brought it up, and I guess I just assumed.” Yuuri sighed, sounding as tired as Viktor felt. “Forgive me. The alternative was – is – too bleak for me to consider. Without you, I – That doesn’t matter. It was still wrong. Sorry, Vitya.”

Fresh tears trickled down Viktor’s face.

“I forgive you. I’m sorry too, that I didn’t listen, that I waited.” He grimaced. “Maybe we should communicate better.”

Yuuri huffed out a laugh, dry and mirthless but still a laugh.

“We should work on it, yes.”

“I thought we were doing so well too.”

They smiled, quiet little things. Viktor slid his palms down the length of Yuuri’s arms, stopping at his wrists.

“Yuuri, I’m not saying no. Only that I don’t know yet. It might change.”

“Mm. Probably better this way. We can talk this out later, when we’re ready.”

“When I’m ready, you mean,” Viktor said. Yuuri frowned lightly but didn’t respond. “What if I never am?”

He hadn’t meant to ask that because it wasn’t fair to Yuuri, and Viktor didn’t even really mean it but–

“Nothing changes,” Yuuri replied, steel in his eyes and voice both. “You’ll still be mine until the end. Whether that end is yours or mine or the world’s doesn’t matter.”

Viktor blinked away the wetness on his lashes. He hoped he was a pretty crier because this was ridiculous and damned if he could stop.

Pity it wasn’t as easy as Yuuri made it sound.

“What if I stay human and become old and withered? What if I decide at – at fucking seventy that I want to be turned? Would you stick with an old, ugly man?”

That, at least, seemed to catch Yuuri off guard. He gaped at Viktor, expression shifting from shock to outrage to amazement and back to outrage within the span of a few seconds.

“…What?”

“I just–”

“No, no, no. What. What the actual hell, Viktor? Those aren’t spontaneous questions. You’ve been thinking about this, thinking that I’ll, what up and leave once you grow some actual grey in that silver head of yours?”

“I’m too aware of my beauty being a commodity to ever not fear about losing it, Yuuri. I did stop caring once, back before you found me. Now I have you and I want to keep you, so I care again.”

Yuuri took a deep, audible breath.

“Vitya? You vomited the first time I saw you. I’ve seen what your body looks like at its worst. I _am_ seeing dark circles the size of the moon under your eyes. If I’d only wanted you for your beauty, I’d have taken your blood and left your corpse to the water. Maybe I’d have left you a squirming, desperate puddle on the beach. We wouldn’t even be here.”

Yuuri looked so fierce again, muscles locked and teeth bared as if waiting for a fight.

Viktor had never felt so charmed.

“And I know a vampire who was turned when she was in her nineties. She’s hitting her eighth century soon. So I’d say that possibility is fine.”

Viktor let the smile he’d been holding back spread across his lips.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “That was unkind to us both.”

Then he tackled Yuuri.

This time, they didn’t fall. Yuuri’s body was solid and strong, folding Viktor’s larger frame into his own with comforting ease.

“I’m sorry,” Viktor whispered, face pressed to Yuuri’s neck. The skin there grew wet.

“I forgive you.” Yuuri’s hand cupped the nape of Viktor’s neck, gripping firmly. “I mean it, Viktor. If you want time, I’ll wait. If you want only a lifetime, I’ll spend it with you. If you want forever, I’ll give you that.”

“But that’s not fair to you, Yuuri!”

“The world hasn’t been fair since before I was born. Who cares now? You’re mine, Vityenka. That’s all that matters.”

Viktor shivered against Yuuri. Rather than hold him tighter, Yuuri loosened his embrace and pulled back, the hand on Viktor’s neck sliding to tip his chin up.

“Okay, Vitya?”

He closed his eyes. Opened them and smiled.

“Okay.”

None of this solved anything.

He knew that. Yuuri knew that.

But it was a start.

Yuuri leaned in, kissed the tears on Viktor’s cheek, and Viktor melted into him with a sigh.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "My useless vampire” is 100% in honor of Mad. You were right, my dude, you were right.
> 
> The next two updates won’t be regular chapters but two long birthday one-shots – 10k and 12k respectively. The reason they’re so long is that it’s mostly that there’s a _lot_ of sex, so pay attention to the tags on them before you venture in.


	17. pale and perfect, such unholy heaving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri celebrates Valentine's Day for the first time, but the high doesn't last long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are parts of this chapter that follow from the two birthday one-shots I posted – such as Viktor’s choker/collar and dress, Yuuri’s feelings concerning Viktor’s decision about immortality – but it’s nothing you can’t figure out from context.
> 
> Sex-specific tags: Semi-public sex

“Yuuuuuuri!”

Yuuri staggered when around seventy kilos of tall, tipsy Russian slammed into him but managed to keep himself and Viktor upright. He didn’t even know how Viktor had gathered the momentum to practically leap on Yuuri when the crowd around them was thick and thrumming, a mass of bodies writhing to the pulse of some wordless music.

It was hell on Yuuri’s senses.

Coming to the club had, of course, been Phichit’s idea. Yuuri had decades’ worth of practice turning him down but this time, Viktor had shown a spark of interest and after that, Yuuri hadn’t put up too much of a fight. All else aside, Viktor dancing had been an appealing image.

He didn’t disappoint, though Yuuri suspected most of the benefit was reaped by strangers who had the luxury of watching as Viktor ground against Yuuri with wild abandon, hips and hands both moving with the music to work Yuuri into a scorching hot mess. He’d tried to return the favor, summoning what he could of any grace he’d ever possessed to dance dirty with Viktor, but his fingers found skin and dug in too hard, trying in vain to keep Viktor still for the needy press of his cock.

Viktor hissed each time Yuuri left a new bruise on his skin but never stopped moving, eyes knowing and devious as he twirled and twined around Yuuri in clothes that left entirely too little to the imagination.

The collar didn’t help.

Technically, it was a choker, or so Viktor had claimed when he clasped the black leather around this throat with a filthy grin that begged Yuuri to drag him to his knees and keep him there.

Yuuri knew it was a choker. He’d bought the damn thing.

He’d bought it exactly because it was virtually indistinguishable from a collar, and Viktor’s heart-mouthed delight when he’d been gifted it had been precisely because of the same.

But Yuuri, naive despite his years, had believed it would be something they’d break out in their bedroom, or the living room, or the kitchen, or the bathroom, or anywhere in their cozy little apartment…just not in some rowdy club where Yuuri could look and touch but couldn’t _have_.

Viktor knew it, had known it from the moment he picked up the col– _choker_ , but that didn’t seem to be stopping him from trying to fuck Yuuri on the dance floor.

Something wet and hot slid along the shell of his ear, Viktor’s tongue followed by his lips as he mouthed his way down Yuuri’s neck, sucking hard at a tender spot while his dick rubbed lazily against Yuuri’s clothed ass. Yuuri tilted his head to give him better access, keeping his body moving in some sad imitation of a rhythm. Viktor did a remarkable job of driving the noise from Yuuri’s head until all that remained was the desire to bare his teeth and cock and sink into Viktor.

Viktor skimmed his fingers along the waistband of Yuuri’s jeans, thumbing the buckle before teasing them up his shirt, trailing heat along his chilled skin. His mouth burned even hotter, sending lava seeping into Yuuri’s skin and down to his flesh to pool thick and heavy in the pit of his belly. He reached back, grasped a handful of soft hair, and pulled.

Viktor moaned into Yuuri’s neck, mouth opening to let out a puff of warm breath before it closed around his neck, this time with sharp teeth that scarped roughly against sensitive skin.

Yuuri lost it.

His hand tightened in Viktor’s hair, pulling until his mouth detached from Yuuri’s neck with a protesting groan. Yuuri whirled around, barely pausing to glance at Viktor’s flushed face before he hooked two fingers into his collar, in between smooth leather and heated skin, and started walking.

It wasn’t easy to cut through dancing humans while dragging a grown man by the neck but Yuuri managed, not once turning to look at Viktor behind him but feeling each slip and stumble in his own pace. The best part was that Viktor didn’t once try to complain, only followed Yuuri with breaths that grew more labored by the minute.

Yuuri forced himself to slow once they were near the bathroom, but he couldn’t let go of his hold on Viktor who was almost deliberately keeping his neck craned to better feel the collar digging into his neck. They got more than a few glances, though those dancing had other priorities and the ones beside the sinks politely looked away when Yuuri pushed Viktor into a stall and shut the door behind them.

He locked it and turned just in time to be pressed against the door and kissed hard.

Viktor was ravenous and clinging, hands sliding hungrily up Yuuri’s shirt to splay over bare skin while his mouth kissed and licked and nipped, prying Yuuri open to be devoured. Yuuri let it happen, sinking into the hot caress of Viktor’s tongue as it fucked in and out of his mouth, the rhythm echoed down below by the insistent jerks of Viktor’s hips.

“Yuuri,” Viktor chanted in between biting down on Yuuri’s lip and peppering kisses over his chin. “Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri, come on, I want–”

Yuuri growled, flipping them so that Viktor had his back to the door, pinned there with the full weight of Yuuri’s body.

“Yes, you _want_. That’s the problem, Vitya. You’ve made messes of us both.”

Viktor laughed, high and airy and unconcerned. His eyes fluttered closed, hands clenching where they now rested on Yuuri’s forearms, and his panting breaths turned open-mouthed. Yuuri was, for a moment, mesmerized by the cherry–red of his lips and cheeks, and didn’t notice the telltale stuttering of his hips until it was nearly too late.

“ _No!_ ” he snapped, palms flying to clutch Viktor’s face just as they gaped open in shock at the command. All the better because it left his mind wide open for Yuuri to reach into and mold to his whims. “You don’t come until I say you can, Vitya."

Viktor’s eyes were already wide and blown, and he didn’t seem to understand the significance of what Yuuri did until he kept grinding his clothed cock into Yuuri’s hips with a frantic need that went unanswered.

“Y-you didn’t–” Viktor threw his head back, screwed shut his eyes, and rubbed harder against Yuuri, desperation loud in every breath and every twitch. But there was no stain spreading on his clothes, no sticky heat splashing between their bodies.

“No,” Viktor breathed, a strange blend of horror and arousal. “No, no, no, no, Yuuri, fuck, don’t, please let me, I want to come, I need to come.”

Usually, that would have been all it took. Yuuri was weak for Viktor, and they both knew that one little look from under teary lashes was all it took for Yuuri to give in and give all the pleasure he deserved and more.

But now, like this, with Viktor flushed to the roots of his dyed hair and begging like he was born for it, Yuuri found he could be weak and strong at the same time.

“You can come,” he promised, soft and silky. “After I have.”

Viktor _keened_.

The sound alone made Yuuri throb in his jeans, their tight confines too cruel a prison when Viktor was right there in front of him, a pretty mess of broken gasps and trembling limbs.

Yuuri pressed is body close to Viktor’s, shoving them together from head to hips until the chill of his own skin and the heat of Viktor’s blended into one blazing nerve. Viktor was bare from thighs down, dressed as he was in a pastel pink sweater dress that left every inch of his lean legs bare for wanting eyes to feast on.

Said eyes had belonged to many a stranger tonight but in the end, all of Viktor was Yuuri’s.

Viktor knew it too, his clenched thighs parting with a sigh as Yuuri dipped a hand between them, stroking up over silken skin and under the edge of his dress to grope the impressive bulge in Viktor’s thong. The thin silk was already drenched in precum and the head of his cock had slipped out, hot and wet when Yuuri slid a finger along the top of it.

Viktor shuddered, a choked noise escaping him. He swallowed, throat convulsing against the leather encircling it. Marks from Yuuri’s teeth and fingers decorated the surrounding skin.

Yuuri pressed the side of his thumb against Viktor’s slit, letting out a moan of his own at the way it made Viktor gasp and splay his legs.

Yuuri had a feeling that the dress wouldn’t survive this night unscathed. They’d been Yuuri’s belated Christmas present to Viktor, a promise fulfilled from when Viktor had confessed to missing wearing dresses. Yuuri would be sad to see it ruined but he’d be sadder to spare it when all he could think of was how fetching Viktor would look with the dress bunched around his waist and his thong hanging off one ankle while Yuuri pounded into him.

He said as much, lips on Viktor’s ears. The dick in Yuuri’s hand twitched, more fluid beading at the tip and saying more than Viktor could with words, not that he didn’t try, breaking into a litany of _Please_ and _Yuuri_ , squirming in place in the most delicious way. Yuuri’s fangs ached to bite but he held back. He didn’t need vampirism to take Viktor apart.

“Were you asking for this, Vitya?” Yuuri asked, as innocent as he was able which wasn’t much when he was smearing precum along the length of Viktor’s cock. “Out there, putting on a show, teasing me crazy – you wanted me to take you here and fuck you?”

Viktor didn’t respond with words, just tried to turn his head and kiss Yuuri, whining when Yuuri pulled back, the hand on Viktor’s dick now just resting against its bulge, keeping him flush to the door while Yuuri pulled back for a better look.

A bathroom barely big enough to fuck in was hardly Yuuri’s ardent sexual fantasy, but the simple truth was that Viktor would look stunning even sprawled naked in a dumpster and this, red and pretty and captive under Yuuri’s touch, was the most beautiful he’d ever been, regardless of location.

“Maybe not,” Yuuri said, reaching down with his free hand to unzip his jeans. “Maybe you wanted me to fuck you right there, bite you and take you while everyone watched–”

Viktor moaned, loud and lewd, pushing into Yuuri’s touch for friction that would do him no good.

But that didn’t matter when Yuuri’s entire focus had narrowed to the look on Viktor’s face. Heavy-lidded and slack-jawed, he seemed to barely be keeping himself upright. His chest heaved with large, shaky breaths, and he trembled all over, drowning in sweet torment.

He was into that then.

Yuuri wasn’t, or at least he hadn’t been; Viktor mindless and ecstatic was only his to see.

But now, the idea was intoxicating.

He released Viktor’s cock to grab the hem of his dress, yanking it up to expose the dripping mess on Viktor’s crotch and the toned plane of his torso, all the way up to his pert, pink nipples. Yuuri nudged the fabric against Viktor’s mouth and he opened up obediently, taking the cloth between his teeth and clamping down.

“Good boy,” Yuuri purred.

Viktor shuddered again, face flaming.

“I’ll do that one day,” Yuuri told him, absently tweaking one of Viktor’s nipples and grinning at his muffled response. “Take you to an Other club. Yeah, those exist. Some are pretty…extreme. They’ll see you, a human with a vampire, and let me do anything to you. I could break you there on the floor, split you wide and drain you dry, and no one would bat an eye.”

Viktor’s knees buckled.

Yuuri caught him before he could fall, grabbing him by the waist and hoisting him up, the closeness pushing his own freed cock to Viktor’s. The contact made them both hiss, Yuuri’s dick making it known just how little it appreciated being neglected. He _had_ to grind into Viktor, chasing pleasure. Viktor, so good to keep biting the dress despite his near fall, whined and writhed in Yuuri’s arms, answering the thrusts with frenzied ones of his own.

“Sweet Vitya, didn’t I say you can’t come? Why are you trying to? Good pets should learn to listen.”

“I’m good,” Viktor rasped through dry lips, the pink hem falling from his mouth. “I’ll be good. Just fuck me, please fu– _mmph!_ ”

“Keep this in, darling,” Yuuri instructed, poking the fabric he’d none too gently shoved back into Viktor’s mouth. “I love to make you scream but this is a public place. I don’t want to be interrupted.”

Viktor managed a miniscule nod. There were tears at the corners of his eyes.

Pretty.

His intention was to lightly take off Viktor’s underwear but understandably preoccupied with the lone, glimmering tear slowly sliding down Viktor’s cheek, he miscalculated and tore off the thing in one quick move.

He stared at the little scrap of lacy black. He found Viktor doing the same but with an expression that was easy to identify even when half of his face hidden. The noise Viktor made, mostly lost in his makeshift gag, was almost as sweet a plea as when Viktor used his words.

Yuuri dropped the underwear and gave a consolatory pat to Viktor’s weeping erection before sliding his hand under his balls and between his cheeks to probe his hole.

He found it wet and plugged.

“…Vitya.”

Yuuri had thought Viktor had taken too long in the bathroom before they left. But not in his wildest dreams had he expected this.

The plug, small enough to allow easy movement but wide enough to let each step be _felt_ , was the most recent addition to their small stash of toys that had been growing since Yuuri’s birthday. Viktor had chosen it, laughing at the company’s Valentine’s Day discount.

And now Viktor was wearing it, had been wearing it for hours, had opened himself up in the bathroom while Yuuri waited in the living room with Phichit and Celestino and put it inside so Yuuri would find him wet and open.

“ _Vitya_.”

Any calmness Yuuri had held on to for the sole purpose of denying Viktor left him in a rush. He almost tore open his pocket when he retrieved the lube, did tear up its cap when he opened it, and wasted a good amount on the floor when he slathered it all over his cock with the hand that wasn’t prodding at the edges of the plug.

Distantly, he was aware of the sounds Viktor made, throaty little things that rose and fell in pitch with the force with which Yuuri tugged at the plug.

The best was when Yuuri, woefully out of patience, pulled out the plug and along with it brought forth an animalistic noise that he was sure would have been a scream if Viktor’s voice was free.

“Legs around me,” he gritted out, hitching one of Viktor’s legs around his hips before his lover even had a chance to obey. Viktor threw his arms around Yuuri’s back and climbed on him, holding on tight and steady even as Yuuri pried open the cheeks of his ass and lowered him onto his cock.

It wasn’t gentle.

He knew what Viktor could take and when he could take it, and the way he was now, dazed and clenching around the cock in his ass, said loud and clear that he should be fucked until he couldn’t walk, could barely speak.

Yuuri squeezed Viktor’s ass, trusting Viktor to keep himself around Yuuri while he slid all the way into him. He was _hot_ , tight and searing in a way that never failed to drive the breath out of Yuuri’s cold lungs, and he kept going until he was as deep as he could be, Viktor’s body swallowing his cock with heated greed.

Someone was moaning, a continuous stream of breathy cries, and Yuuri realized it was him, already on edge just from getting into Viktor.

It helped that Viktor seemed no better, the look in his eyes utterly wild as his walls clenched and fluttered around Yuuri. He twitched a little, maybe trying to move, but he couldn’t in this position. Yuuri gave him his wish, lifting him by the ass until Yuuri’s cock was half out and then slamming him back with the wet sound of flesh on flesh.

Viktor whimpered around his mouthful.

And when Yuuri did it again and again and again, going faster with each needy thrust, Viktor’s gagged cries grew louder and louder, joining Yuuri’s own to echo in the closed stall. They were broadcasting to anyone still outside precisely what was going on inside but in spite of what he’d said, Yuuri didn’t feel the urge to muffle their cries, especially not Viktor’s when he sounded so divinely _wrecked_ , keening through the cloth in his mouth.

He met Viktor’s eyes, barely open and clouded over, their blue nearly invisible amidst lust-dark black. They fluttered weakly when they met Yuuri’s, a brave attempt at lucidity that was promptly abandoned with the next harsh stroke of Yuuri’s cock inside him. Viktor threw his head back, hitting the wall with a dull thud that was nearly swallowed in his moan as Yuuri rolled his hips, fingers carving bruises into the soft skin of Viktor’s ass.

It was easier and better to keep most of himself inside Viktor and just grind in, and Yuuri did just that, grunting as Viktor’s walls squeezed him hard and his limbs tightened around Yuuri. He wished he was naked too to better feel the consuming heat of Viktor aroused and helpless, clinging to Yuuri with all his might and screaming without sound.

Though maybe it was best this way because Yuuri could already feel the red haze creeping over his own mind, banishing thoughts as he bounced Viktor on his cock, swift and shallow, grinning with a fanged mouth at how it made Viktor’s noises go shrill and wanton, wordless pleas as potent as the desperation in his eyes or the angry red of his cock.

“Wanna come, Vitya?” Yuuri whispered, mouthing messily at Viktor’s jaw, taking the dress between his own teeth and tugging it away. Something tore before Viktor relinquished it. It fell back down, trapped between their bodies and heavy with spit.

“Please,” came the hoarse answer, Viktor’s voice a shuddery breath. He was crying. “I’ve been good for you, you said – you – Yuuri, Yuu–”

He cut off with a whine when Yuuri bit gently into the meat of his shoulder. Smooth skin and firm muscle crunched under his teeth, bruising but not breaking.

“I – _ah_ – said you could come when I did. So make me come, Vitya.”

It was a ridiculous demand but Viktor tried anyway, hands braced on Yuuri while he tried to move on his dick, but Viktor was slick with sweat and trembling all over and only managed to collapse into Yuuri, folding over him with a ragged cry. He pushed his face into Yuuri’s hair, panting into it.

“C-can’t. Can’t, can’t, can’t, I can’t, Yuuri, I’m so–” Yuuri thrust up sharply, shivering at the groan it punched out of Viktor. His teeth ached. “ _Yuuri_ , bite me.”

“Shouldn’t,” Yuuri managed to mumble, already flicking his tongue over the wet skin of Viktor’s throat.

Viktor’s ass clenched hard at the sensation, head falling to the side to better bare his neck for Yuuri. Skin stretched taut over muscle and Yuuri licked a stripe from below his chin to the fleshy bulge of his shoulder.

“We shouldn’t,” he said again and sunk his fangs deep.

It was hard to focus on anything outside of Viktor’s blood washing down his throat and Viktor’s heat spasming around his cock, but Yuuri had to or Viktor, writhing in his grasp and raking nails up Yuuri’s back, would fall. Yuuri pressed him tighter to the stall and sucked harder, holding Viktor tight by the ass.

Yuuri came like that, the ecstasy of Viktor on his tongue pushing him past the edge. His cock twitched in Viktor, forever incapable of filling him up in ways they’d both adore.

He stopped drinking with a mournful sigh, closing the incisions as he pulled away. Viktor’s head lolled back the instant he was free of Yuuri’s teeth, eyes closed, mouth slack, limbs loose and only just hanging on to Yuuri.

“Vitya,” Yuuri called, nuzzling Viktor’s neck.

Viktor hummed but didn’t react otherwise. Yuuri, with his cock soft but still within Viktor, ground his hips a little, hoping to jolt Viktor out of his blissed out numbness.

It worked halfway. Viktor, with obvious effort, opened his eyes and looked at Yuuri.

“You can come now, Vitya.”

Viktor moaned low in his throat. His arm twitched as if to reach down and take himself in hand but it remained wrapped around Yuuri even as he shifted his own hold to grab Viktor’s loosening legs before they dropped from around Yuuri’s waist and brought them both down.

“Can you stand?”

Viktor nodded once, paused, and shook his head.

“Touch me,” he said softly, biting his lips. “Yuuri, make me come.”

“Hold on to me.”

For a moment, Viktor wobbled dangerously but he once again clamped his legs firmly around Yuuri, allowing him to free a hand to touch Viktor’s cock. The whole flushed length of him was blazing hot and wet with his own fluids. Yuuri’s hand moved slick and easy over it, but all it took was two easy strokes for Viktor to unravel, coming all over Yuuri’s hand which closed around the head to protect their clothes.

Viktor staggered to his feet, hanging on to Yuuri for balance. He slumped against the stall wall, trembling violently.

Yuuri tucked himself in and smoothed over Viktor’s clothes with his relatively clean hand, dragging the same up Viktor’s body to curve around the back of his neck. His eyes trailed along the same path, fresh arousal simmering in his veins at the sight of Viktor fucked to ruin. He raised his come-stained hand to Viktor’s lips, nudging them open with his thumb. Viktor complied easily, almost eagerly, lapping at the mess with a strangled sound, sucking and licking with earnest devotion until Yuuri’s hand was clear and wet with saliva.

“G-good,” Yuuri stuttered, dick filling out again. He ignored it. “You’re so good to me, Vitya.”

Viktor smiled, big and beautiful.

“Always, for you.”

“Could you take a little more, sweetheart?”

Viktor’s eyes widened, instantly flickering down to Yuuri’s pants. He whimpered, fingers clawing at Yuuri’s shoulder, when he saw the slight bulge in them.

“Sssh, no, I’m not going to fuck you again.”

It was a little ridiculous that Viktor looked relived _and_ disappointed by that.

Yuuri may have the stamina but it was Viktor who was truly insatiable.

He loved this man.

Yuuri ignored the unwelcome pang that thought brought and reached into his pocket, retrieving the plug he’d stashed there earlier.

Viktor’s breath left him in a loud exhale, but he didn’t protest when Yuuri reached behind him and slid his hand up his dress to nudge the toy against his loose hole.

“This okay?”

Viktor canted his hips ever so slightly in permission.

Yuuri pushed in the plug; it was so easy with Viktor this open. He tapped the base once, unable to resist squeezing one plump cheek before his withdrew his hand. Viktor just shivered, another, heavier sigh leaving him.

“Let’s go home, hm? Can you walk?”

The answer turned out to be a very tentative yes. The feeding and fucking had done a number on Viktor, as always, and he couldn’t quite keep himself upright without leaning on Yuuri. But he was perfectly happy to have Viktor pressed against him and to walk slower to accommodate him.

After all, the situation was his fault.

His phenomenal stupidity didn’t fully strike him until he stepped outside and came face to face with a woman gaping at them with a pink flush on her cheeks. A tiny comb dangled from her fingers.

Yuuri froze.

Viktor, as unconcerned with shame as ever, slumped further against Yuuri.

The woman and Yuuri stared at each other for several indecipherable moments. He could feel Viktor’s blood rushing to his own cheeks and painting them red. In the end, she turned away, her expression smoothening into a blank mask as she very intently stared at her reflection.

Yuuri walked out with Viktor draped over him like a heavy shawl.

It was even worse at the bar where he studiously avoided eye contact with the bartender while making Viktor down a couple of glasses of water.

Phichit and Celestino were both better and worse.

On one hand, Yuuri’s longstanding acquaintance with them had previously led to them both witnessing what he looked like with his guts spilling out or, even on one memorable occasion, with a truly horrendous amount of human food coming up the wrong way. The latter incident had been Phichit’s fault anyway and Yuuri felt only shame and no guilt for making him hold his hair back while he threw everything up.

The point was that, when it came to Yuuri’s physical appearance, Phichit and Celestino had seen worse that rumpled clothes, suspicious stains, and a human accessory.

On the other, Viktor looked obscenely, obviously well-fucked, and he and Yuuri both reeked of sex and come. Werewolf senses were not inferior to vampire ones, and it showed in the way Phichit’s nose was wrinkled and Celestino looked like he’d kill to be anywhere but here.

“We’re going home,” Yuuri told them, eyes on Celestino’s chin.

Viktor, silent until now, chose that moment to raise his head from Yuuri’s shoulder and pitch in.

“Yuuri’s gonna take me home and fuck me!” he chirped, giggling.

The blood on Yuuri’s face rushed right back to his dick.

Phichit was the first to recover.

“I…thought he already did.”

Behind him, Celestino made a choked sound and threw a blatantly desperate glance back at the club.

“I – we’re going now. You two enjoy the night. Goodbye.”

“Oh, we won’t enjoy it as much as you did, right, Viktor?” Phichit replied, perfectly audible despite Yuuri’s attempts to get away because Viktor was slow and stumbling.

“Yes!” Viktor called back.

Yuuri picked him up and booked it.

It was awkward to run with Viktor in his arms, especially since they were in public and had to keep a human pace; they were already attracting enough attention. Viktor seemed to appreciate it at least, clinging and nuzzling into Yuuri with a dopey smile.

“Best Valentine’s day ever,” Viktor said when Yuuri finally set him back down a couple of blocks away from their place.

“I think it’s well past midnight,” Yuuri told him, sliding his arm around Viktor’s waist. Viktor’s own settled around Yuuri’s shoulder, drawing him close to the warmth of his body.

Viktor sounded completely sober, but his legs remained unsteady. Yuuri saw his free hand twitching to the swell of his butt and figured out why.

He shouldn’t, he knew, but it was hard to keep himself from sliding his hand down and oh-so-innocently squeezing a handful of Viktor’s ass, nudging the plug as he did.

Viktor gasped, stopping in place and throwing his arms around Yuuri.

Like this, Yuuri could feel Viktor’s cock pressing against his leg. It was still soft but the outline of it stood clear against the soft material of his dress. Yuuri covered the faint bulge with his other hand, his action hidden by their bodies. They were close to their apartment and there was no other soul in sight. It gave him the courage to slip his hand under the dress and walk his fingers up Viktor’s spent cock, his own twitching at the hushed moan the touch elicited.

“Did I make it up to you, Vitya?”

“ _Hngh_.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Viktor grumbled when Yuuri stopped groping him but followed readily when Yuuri set out, slightly faster, for their building.

Honestly, the significance of this day – yesterday, now that it was past midnight – hadn’t even registered with Yuuri until Phichit had brought it up at the end of their shift, and Viktor’s hopeful expression had morphed into badly concealed disappointment; badly concealed to Yuuri anyway. Phichit hadn’t noticed a thing and maybe even Viktor hadn’t noticed that Yuuri had noticed.

In his defense, he’d never had a reason to care for a day about romance until now. Viktor hadn’t mentioned anything either but it was likely that he’d hoped Yuuri had arranged something, a surprise date maybe. It was no secret between the two of them that Viktor liked being wooed.

Yuuri had failed this time.

And agreeing to go out with Phichit had been, for a large part, motivated by the desire to fix his mistake. Viktor had surely figured it out and Yuuri would wager a guess that the dress and the plug and the slow, heady seduction in the club had all been Viktor’s idea of a little, harmless payback.

It had all worked out in the end.

Even if Yuuri was never, ever going to set foot in that club again or look Celestino in the eyes for the next fifty years.

But that was irrelevant, especially when their night wasn’t over yet.

Inside their apartment building, Yuuri made a show of deciding between the elevator and the stairs.

“It’s just three floors, Vitya. We can climb, right?”

“Yuuuuri! Do you want to kill me?”

“Why would I ever want that, Vitya?”

Viktor huffed but said nothing else as he marched to the elevator, the show not as impressive as it could have been with the distinct limp in his step. Yuuri stayed a step behind him to better appreciate the sight.

Viktor was on him the second the doors closed, teeth savage on Yuuri’s lips. Yuuri, startled, could only let himself be pushed against the mirrored wall and kissed with a passion that almost drew blood. Viktor stopped when the doors opened with a chime, breathing hard as he wiped his mouth.

“It’s rude to tease, Yuuri,” he said, voice low, and pecked Yuuri one final time before heading out.

Yuuri trailed behind, lips tingling.

Viktor wasted no time heading for their bedroom, shoes hastily toed off in the entryway. Yuuri followed at a more sedate pace, locking the door and arranging their shoes, all the while willing his erection to go down again. His traitorous mind just kept flashing through images of how easy it would be to push Viktor against something and slide into him again. He would still be so loose.

Actually seeing Viktor again didn’t help matters. He was naked and no less a mess for it. Bruises were scattered along his body, most old but some fresh and blooming. Yuuri’s fingers had been cruel to his hips and it showed in marks that were already a vivid red. Not that Viktor minded; he never did.

“I need a shower,” Viktor said, sprawled on the bed and making no move to get up. “I’m gross.”

“You’re gorgeous,” Yuuri corrected, forcibly clamping his mouth shut before he kept going with less innocent things – like how Viktor looked perfectly fuckable all spread out on the bed with his legs splayed wide.

Yuuri’s hands itched with the need to pry them wider and see the plug still nestled between his cheeks.

“You’d think so. Since you’re the one who did all this.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining.”

Viktor’s head rolled to the side, pretty pink lips parting over white teeth as he grinned at Yuuri. He stretched, skin tightening over muscles, and drawing Yuuri’s eyes to the fresh bite mark on his shoulder.

He’d never fed on Viktor in public before, let alone drank so deep. That had been dangerous. He could console himself with the thought that it had been due anyway, a little over two weeks having passed since he last ate, but he still hadn’t been in his right mind in that club. Drunk on love and lust, Yuuri could have seriously hurt Viktor.

His apology died on the tip of his tongue when Viktor winked at him, skimming his hands down his chest to come to a stop on his groin, framing his limp cock.

“Now who’s teasing?” Yuuri managed to ask, resisting the urge adjust his dick or better yet, strip and join Viktor on the bed.

“You like it,” Viktor said, heaving himself upright with a groan that was needlessly filthy.

Yuuri didn’t see the need to dignify that with a response.

Instead of going to the bathroom, Viktor came to Yuuri, pressing the whole, glorious length of his body against him. Viktor was pretty in everything from a suit to a dress, but nothing was as exquisite as the sight of him bare and bruised. Yuuri tugged him as close as possible, hoping his jeans would hide his erection.

They didn’t.

Viktor’s grin widened salaciously, and he wedged a knee between Yuuri’s thighs.

“Damn it, _Vitya_.”

“You’ll join me, right, Yuuri?” Viktor asked, innocent as if he weren’t putting torturous pressure on Yuuri’s straining dick. “I’m so tired. What if I slip? Come in and keep me safe.”

At the state they were in, Viktor would be least safe in a bathroom with Yuuri and he knew it.

“You don’t look tired,” was all Yuuri said, a frail retort that did nothing to prevent him from ending up as naked as Viktor under the shower a few minutes later.

Yuuri, being free of the excess of fluids humans and most alive creatures tended to produce, didn’t need to clean up much so he focused mostly on helping Viktor. It was no selfless service. Viktor was sweetly plaint under his touch, relinquishing the soap without protest so that Yuuri could slather it along the whole lean length of him.

It was calm and relaxing. Viktor swayed precariously once, threatening to make good on his earlier words.

Even washing his cock and balls went without incident, Yuuri gently rubbing away the semen stuck there. His own erection was halfway to softness in the pleasantly nonsexual atmosphere.

Or at least it had been until Yuuri’s fingers slipped between Viktor’s cheeks to grasp the base of the plug.

The change in Viktor was drastic. He straightened suddenly from where he’d been leaning his considerable weight on Yuuri, the movement causing Yuuri to pull at the plug and rip a high, tight sound out of Viktor.

“Sorry, sorry,” Yuuri soothed, pushing it back in automatically. Viktor moaned. “Sorry! I – I’ll take it out.”

Viktor didn’t let him, stepping away from Yuuri with a sharp shake of his head. Before anything else could be said, Viktor sank to his knees before Yuuri, face perilously close to his hardening dick.

“Vitya, what–”

He quieted, biting hard at his lips, when Viktor leaned in to rub his cheek against Yuuri’s cock, looking up as he did.

Viktor was quite the sight with blue eyes sly and open, skin wet with fat drops of water, and dark hair flat around his face and neck. Yuuri couldn’t stop himself from reaching down to gather a fistful of his hair, tilting Viktor’s head back.

Viktor let it happen, mouth popping open to let his breath fall hot on Yuuri’s cock. He shuddered.

“Yuuri,” Viktor begged, voice rough. “Let me.”

And then he took Yuuri in his mouth.

He couldn’t go deep with Yuuri’s hand still fisted in his hair but the sudden wet heat of him was enough to have Yuuri buck into his mouth with a stifled shout, most of his length disappearing into Viktor. Yuuri hit the back of his throat, felt Viktor choke, and pulled back until just the head of him rested on Viktor’s tongue.

Viktor’s eyes were hooded now, no longer on Yuuri’s face. His mouth was slack – _inviting_.

Yuuri could do what Viktor was clearly asking for and finish down his throat. And it wasn’t like he was opposed to it. They’d had sex in the bathroom plenty of times before. Sure, Yuuri had forgotten himself a bit the last time Viktor fucked him from behind, so lost in the relentless drive of his cock into him that he clung a little too hard to the wall. Now they had three cracked tiles and several suspicious gouges on the wall to show for it. Still no regrets.

There wouldn’t be regrets now either. Yuuri pushed in just an inch into Viktor, groaning the way his tongue caressed the underside of his cock.

Viktor was good with his mouth. Yuuri loved it.

But–

_Yuuri’s gonna take me home and–_

Ah, fuck.

Yuuri let go of Viktor and backed away, covering his dick with one hand. Viktor stared at him with confusion in his gaze, mouth still pink and open.

“Not like this,” Yuuri told him quietly.

Recognition lit up Viktor’s face.

“You want to fuck me again!”

Rather than get up, Viktor reached for Yuuri, grabbing the hand not holding his cock and pulling him forward. He pried Yuuri’s other hand away too, exposing him again.

“You can,” Viktor whispered, kissing the tip. “I’m going to suck you off, and you’re going to fuck me again, and I’m not going to _walk_ tomorrow, Yuuri.”

Viktor swallowed him to the root before Yuuri could get in a word edgewise, and then he couldn’t even remember words, all of his mind narrowed to the maddening constriction of Viktor’s throat around his cock.

“What’s gotten into you?” Yuuri gritted out, fingers digging into Viktor’s scalp.

Viktor’s answer was to graze his teeth along the base of him, the sting sending a jolt up Yuuri’s spine that had him pushing deeper into Viktor’s throat.

Viktor hummed, Yuuri hissing at the sensation, and sucked, bobbing his head up and down, tongue swirling, throat tightening, and Yuuri let go of questions and concerns and just fucked into Viktor’s mouth, fast and then faster, moaning around pursed lips until his hips stuttered and froze. Yuuri’s second orgasm tore through him swift and merciless, leaving him bowed over Viktor, hands braced on him for support.

Viktor made a surprised little noise when Yuuri’s cock lost its hardness but he kept his mouth working, sucking teasingly on the softened length. Yuuri shuddered, the hand in Viktor’s hair clenching, and pulled back, biting back a groan at the sight of him slipping out of Viktor’s swollen mouth.

“That was fast,” Viktor quipped, wiping his mouth and standing up, wincing a little.

The cold floor couldn’t have been kind to his knees. Yuuri felt guilt fissure through him. He should have stopped Viktor.

He pulled Viktor close and kissed him, soft and sweet in apology. Like this, he could feel Viktor’s own erection slowly reviving, not all the way there yet but close.

Yuuri walked Viktor a few feet back so that they were back under the water spray. It was harder to kiss like this with water getting everywhere so Yuuri just led Viktor to rest his head on Yuuri’s shoulder and stand wrapped around him while he helped washed the residual suds off Viktor’s body. It was impossible not to let his hands wander down and tap the base of the plug still held securely inside of Viktor. That earned him a yelp and teeth nipping at his collarbone, drawing out a laugh of his own.

“Maybe I should have made you walk all the way with this in.”

“ _Fuck_. Yuuri, that’s cruel. I wouldn’t have lasted till the bathroom before losing it. Imagine the sight we’d make, me on my knees in the middle of the street, hungry for your cock.”

Yuuri exhaled shakily, gripping Viktor a little too hard as he got lost in that mental image.

“Is this revenge for what I said in the club?”

Viktor chuckled and pulled back, grinning at Yuuri.

“Turnabout’s fair play, Y _uu_ ri.” Viktor looked down and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think you’re complaining.”

If Yuuri didn’t know exactly how much Viktor appreciated his miniscule refractory period, he’d be embarrassed right now. As it was, he just pulled Viktor to him by the ass, pressing their lengths together, their matching sighs lost in each other’s mouths.

It took considerable willpower to finish washing up. Viktor didn’t help, more focused on licking water off Yuuri’s skin than in shampooing, and Yuuri wasn’t much better with how delectable Viktor looked wet and naked, but they managed though not without considerable wastage of water.

Drying was done quickly and perfunctorily, Viktor whipping his towel at Yuuri’s ass when he took a second too long. He retaliated by grabbing Viktor and throwing him over his shoulder, swatting his ass for good measure. It was too light to hurt but had enough force to jostle the plug and make Viktor shout, helpless to even squirm in this position.

He was smiling wide by the time Yuuri dropped him on the bed, his nose and cheeks flushed the prettiest pink.

Viktor didn’t give Yuuri time to join him before spreading his legs, raising his hips so that the black base of the plug, stark against his pale skin, was visible. Yuuri found himself drawn forth like a man enchanted, settling between Viktor’s thighs and pulling him up so that his ass rested in Yuuri’s lap. Viktor loosely wound his legs around Yuuri, stretching his torso at the same time so that he was splayed about like a work of art, precious and provocative.

Yuuri, torn between the half-hard cock lying against Viktor’s thigh and the glistening stretch of his rim around the butt plug, just petted him for a few moments, stroking up and down his thighs, rubbing at the marks Yuuri had left on his hips. Viktor’s breath hitched and he bit his lip, looking coyly at Yuuri from under his lashes.

“Fuck me.”

Yuuri traced the edges of the plug with a finger before grabbing it and tugging slightly, enough for Viktor to feel it.

“Yeah, just like that,” Viktor breathed. “Take it out and get in me.”

Yuuri pulled it out, pausing with it almost out to push it back inside, just to see Viktor gasp and twist on the bed. He took it out after, barely sparing it a glance before putting it to the side. They should buy a bigger plug next.

Two of Yuuri’s fingers slid into Viktor with no resistance whatsoever. He was still wonderfully open from earlier. Yuuri added a third, eyes flying to Viktor’s face see his reaction. What he found was encouraging, Viktor panting and red down to his chest as he tried to keep his eyes open to see as best as he could what Yuuri was doing to him. His cock now curved towards his belly, begging to be touched.

Yuuri did, wrapping his left hand around the base, loving the hot, heavy weight of it.

He could make Viktor come like this.

“No! You can’t do that, Yuuri, you said you’d fuck me.”

Ah, he really needed to stop saying these things out loud. He’d get himself into trouble one of these days.

“Are you sure though?” Yuuri had to ask. He crooked the fingers he had inside Viktor, unerringly brushing his prostate. “You’ve taken a lot today. Aren’t you sore?”

It took Viktor a moment to respond.

“ _Yes_ , I’m sore. Yes, I’m _sure_. I told you, I want this, I want you taking me until I’m begging and – and–”

Viktor, if possible, blushed even harder.

“Vitya?”

Viktor closed his eyes.

“What you said back there, about Other clubs where you could just – fuck me and break me and no one would care, I–”

Viktor clammed up again, leaving Yuuri confused for a second before he recalled his words earlier.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Viktor had shown then that he’d like that. Yuuri just hadn’t expected he’d like that this much.

“Well.” The word came out incomprehensible. Yuuri had to clear his throat and try again. “I’m not going to break you. But I will have you begging.”

Viktor just moaned, ass tightening around Yuuri’s fingers.

Yuuri leaned down to press a tender kiss to Viktor’s scarred knee.

It was gentler this time.

The frantic urgency of the club was gone, replaced by a desire no less potent but calmer all the same. Viktor, back down on the bed with his hips propped up on a pillow, welcomed Yuuri into him with soft sighs and softer cries that were swallowed in the lazy heat of their kisses. Yuuri let his fingers map Viktor’s body, caressing every bite and bruise as he fucked him deep and kissed him sweet.

Viktor came first, his cock jerking in Yuuri’s hand and spilling white, accompanied by a drawn out moan that warmed Yuuri down to the stolen blood in his veins. He hovered over Viktor, gaze flicking between the mess on his groin and the tiny ‘o’ of his mouth as Yuuri fucked him through the aftershocks.

He didn’t stop.

Not when each fleeting brush against his prostate made Viktor cry out, not when his body started writhing on the bed, not when his insides clenched violently around Yuuri, not when his fingers raked paths of fire down his back, not when a stream of incoherent babble fell from his lips – not even when pretty little tears started sliding down Viktor’s cheeks.

He didn’t stop because Vitkor didn’t ask him to stop, and Yuuri had promised to have him begging.

And Viktor did beg.

“ _Bozhe_ – Yuu – Yuuri, please, come on, now, _please_.”

Yuuri pressed his cock as deep as it could inside Viktor and leaned down to whisper in his ear, “Please what, Vitya?”

“Come already. Come in me.”

“For a man who wanted to be broken, you sure give in easy. What if I just keep going until morning, Vitya? I think I could. Would you take that?”

Viktor sobbed, wet and needy, and arched against Yuuri who followed the motion with a faint growl, keeping himself seated firmly inside Viktor.

“Answer me.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Viktor choked out, throwing his head to the side. “Yes, I’ll take it, I’ll take everything, you can have me, use me, please, Yuuri, Yuuri, _Yuuri_ –”

Yuuri bit hard at Viktor’s lip and came.

“Huh,” he said afterwards, blinking away the stars in his vision and licking blood off his mouth. “I didn’t know I was into that.”

Viktor, lips and chin stained with blood and the rest of his face wet with tears, only let out a trembling breath.

Yuuri pulled out of him, slowly for Viktor’s sake but he hissed in discomfort as Yuuri slipped out. Yuuri planted his knees on either side of Viktor and took his face in his hands, carefully swiping his tongue along his torn lower lip to close the wound. He sucked on it afterward, drinking the spilt blood. Viktor made a throaty noise but didn’t so much as twitch, allowing Yuuri to lap at his mouth and chin until the very last bit of red was gone.

Viktor’s eyes were closed and his breathing even by the time Yuuri pulled back. At a light touch to his tearstained cheek, his eyes opened halfway, hazy blues peering up at Yuuri for an instant before they closed again.

“Sleepy?” Yuuri asked, idly running his thumb along Viktor’s cheekbone.

“Mmm.”

No other answer was forthcoming. Viktor didn’t seem bothered by the semen drying on his skin or any of the other bodily fluids decorating his person.

Yuuri cupped his face and brushed his lips against a tear drop still clinging to Viktor’s lashes.

“I adore you.”

Then he climbed off the bed, intent on cleaning Viktor up and sparing him a messy morning.

 

* * *

 

As predicted, Viktor couldn’t walk in the morning.

Granted, it had as much to do with Yuuri’s impromptu snacking as much as the rounds of fucking, but the end result was that Viktor could barely keep himself awake, let alone get up and function.

Yuuri made himself busy in the kitchen shortly after Viktor disappeared into the bathroom with the expression of a man walking to the gallows.

His culinary skills were still unremarkable and anything too complicated was beyond him anyway but he could toast some bread, scramble an egg, throw in some bacon, and pour a glass of orange juice. For lunch, he could just go out and buy something. They both knew by this point what kind of food to eat to combat blood loss.

Viktor was still in the bathroom when Yuuri returned. He sat on the bed, food tray in his lap, and waited.

He tried not to feel too guilty and mostly failed.

Viktor was naked when he emerged and Yuuri let his gaze run over him, a longstanding habit that was now employed not for appreciation but evaluation. Viktor was paler than he usually was, skin nearly translucent. It made all the marks on him seem a shade too horrific.

“If anyone saw you like this, they might actually arrest me,” Yuuri said before he could stop himself, immediately covering his mouth. “Shit. I mean – sorry.”

Viktor waved it off and limped over, sitting down on the bed and wincing a little.

“Do you need something? Hot water bag?”

“I don’t think we have one of those,” Viktor croaked, crawling over to the headboard and sitting a little awkwardly on his side.

“I overdid it again…”

Viktor chucked this time, genuine humor lighting up his eyes.

“I very vividly remember asking you to. Begging, in fact.” His smile took on a wicked edge. “I told you, Yuuri, you can break me if you want.”

Yuuri sighed. The thought was a lot more terrifying now that he was no longer lust-crazed.

He knew all too well how easily he could break Viktor. There were nights when he feared it.

“I want to keep you instead,” Yuuri told him quietly, handing over the juice.

Viktor took a generous gulp, sighing happily.

“Don’t sound so grim, love. I know what you feel for me. I love you for it.”

He drank the rest of the juice. Yuuri watched and thought, _No, no you don’t_.

He couldn’t, not when Yuuri had made sure that he wouldn’t.

Viktor knew the good parts and the best of the bad parts. He didn’t know the worst of it. He didn’t know of all the nights since that dark November one when Yuuri had lain in bed watching him, thinking–

“We just go overboard sometimes,” Viktor said, handing the glass back to Yuuri.

“Sometimes? This is the… I don’t even know the number, Vitya. You’d think we’d know our limits by now.”

Viktor only grinned and patted his ass. Most of it was red, with the distinct shape of Yuuri’s fingers imprinted on them.

“I like that I can make you forget them, my Yuuri.”

He sighed.

“And you like it when I pamper you afterward, I know.”

Viktor grinned wider and opened his mouth, a clear command that he be fed.

Yuuri obeyed all too gladly.

It was hours later, with Viktor fast asleep on his stomach and Yuuri scrolling through the internet beside him, that the door bell rang.

Yuuri startled, his first instinct being to glance down at Viktor who remained blissfully unaware, nuzzling into his pillow without showing the slightest sign of disturbance. Good, because he needed the rest and Yuuri was loath to wake him.

He could deal with their guest on his own, not that he had a clue who it could be.

The last time they’d had an unexpected visitor, she had unraveled something fundamental in Viktor and Yuuri’s existence that still hadn’t reassembled itself. Hopefully, this was someone less harmless or Yuuri couldn’t be held accountable for what he might do.

It turned out to be Phichit.

‘Harmless’ was debatable them.

“What are you doing here?” Yuuri asked, letting him in and closing the door.

“I already feel so welcome,” Phichit answered with a blindingly bright smile. “You’re such a warm guy, Yuuri!”

“I – sorry? Hi, Phichit. Come in, Phichit. I hope you’re doing great, Phichit. It’s not like I saw you yesterday, Phichit.”

Phichit made a face before turning on his heels and marching off like he owned the place. He didn’t go far, collapsing on the couch and curling up on it, leaving just enough space for Yuuri to sit.

“Speaking of yesterday…” Phichit began the moment Yuuri warily sat down beside him. Yuuri held up a hand immediately.

“We are _not_ talking about my sex life.”

“Spoilsport. But no, I was actually going to ask if yesterday was too much and that’s why you’re both holed up in here today.”

Well, yes, but what’d that–

Oh.

“Work. It’s Friday.”

“Lo and behold, he figures it out. You didn’t even call in, Yuuri!”

Yuuri grimaced, looking down at his hands. The thought of work or calling Phichit hadn’t even occurred to him. As far as priorities went, it was near the bottom but still, Phichit deserved a warning. Yuuri knew he’d freed up those jobs so Viktor and Yuuri could have something easy and comforting to occupy them when they settled here.

“Sorry, Phichit.”

“Yeah, whatever. I called in a favor. Uma’s handling it.”

“Who?”

“Yuuri, you _know_ her – you know what, never mind.  I don’t get why I bother. Anyway, where’s Viktor?”

“Sleeping.”

Phichit blinked, whipping out his phone to squint at the screen.

“Yuuri, it’s noon.”

“Yeah, I know. He’s good at sleeping regularly now but after a feeding, he’s really tired so it’s best if he rests.”

It was Yuuri’s turned to be squinted at. He endured it for several minutes, even holding eye contact for most of it, before turning away, staring wistfully at the direction of the bedroom. He could hear Viktor’s heartbeat if he concentrated, a steady thumping that was oddly relaxing.

And then Phichit grabbed him by the arm and pulled Yuuri on top of him.

Yuuri tensed instinctually but forced himself to relax. It was only Phichit, one of the very few people Yuuri was okay with touching so freely even if it had taken them a lot of trial and error to get there.

“Uh…not that I don’t like your hugs but what are you doing?” Yuuri asked when Phichit showed no intention of letting him go.

“Showering you with love and also making sure you won’t run away from this conversation.”

“I don’t run away from conversations.”

“Katsuki Yuuri, you have literally done just that. Remember when I tried to ask you advice for seducing Ciao Ciao?”

“…No? I had no idea there was anything going on between you two until after you were together.”

Phichit sighed, butting his forehead against Yuuri’s shoulder a few times. Yuuri squirmed a little. This was nice and all but shape shifters tended to run hot all the time, and it was getting slightly uncomfortable. He shifted some more and Phichit let him go, keeping a hand wrapped around Yuuri’s wrist as they straightened themselves.

“I’m not really going to run away, Phichit.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Phichit.”

“You know he won’t survive like this for long.”

Yuuri froze. Phichit continued as if he hadn’t noticed.

“Humans don’t last long as pets. Does he know that?”

Yuuri didn’t – couldn’t – say anything. But that was all answer Phichit needed anyway.

“It’s even worse that you’re feeding only from him. Yuuri, one slip and–”

“I know,” Yuuri bit out, cutting him off. “That’s not going to happen, I’m not going to hurt him.”

Phichit just frowned, his eyes deep and sad with an understanding that had Yuuri turning away.

“You already are,” Phichit whispered.

Yuuri pretended that he hadn’t heard.

Silence descended, thick enough to cut with a knife.

Yuuri glared at the floor, hyperaware of Phichit’s eyes boring into him and his palm pressed to his skin.

Yuuri knew.

Viktor didn’t.

Once, it hadn’t mattered.

Phichit spoke first.

“Well, whatever, it’s not my business. I’m sure you know what you’re doing.”

Yuuri almost laughed at that because really, why would Phichit think that? Yuuri had been flailing like a fish out of water since the beginning and each time he thought he’d figured their relationship out, something would happen to prove that he was in far too deep.

The most terrifying – and most reassuring – thing was that he didn’t regret a moment of it.

Viktor was worth…everything.

“Why are you here then?” Yuuri asked, forcing himself to look at Phichit.

“To talk about work.” Phichit raised an eyebrow, mouth quirking into a biting smile. “Not that you seem to give a shit about that.”

“I really am sorry. I know I should have called you.”

“Eh, I’m not all that surprised. I know you don’t really like it there.”

“Well, um, I don’t dislike it?”

 _Both_ of Phichit’s eyebrows fled to his hairline.

“Much?”

“Suuuure. It’s good Viktor’s there with you most days. Otherwise, you’d scare off half the customers.”

“The half that’s your pack or the other half?”

“The other half. My pack’s got this weird obsession with you. I think Viktor’s telling them tales – oh come on, fanghead, drop the frown, they’re not going to harm a hair on your precious human’s head.”

Yuuri only frowned harder, grumbling at Phichit.

“Yes, I know that. It’s just, well, I don’t–”

“Like it when people other than you interact with the guy? Yeah, I know, everyone knows, you’re not subtle. You’re lucky Viktor likes the whole possessive caveman deal.”

Yuuri rubbed his forehead, trying to soothe a phantom headache that was often the result of talking to Phichit.

“I’m not a caveman. Viktor can do whatever he wants. I’m not his keeper.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Phichit said dismissively. “Doesn’t change that he’s content to just stick to you like an exceptionally pretty barnacle. The two of you are real fucking weird. I just hope you’ve got your shit together.”

“Phi–”

“Not my business, got it.”

“That wasn’t–”

“So about work! I’m closing Scrolls & Scripts soon!”

Yuuri’s frustration evaporated, replaced by sheer confusion.

“What? You’re closing – why?”

Phichit shrugged, leaning back against the arm of the couch.

“Ciao Ciao and I’ve been here for around twenty years now. It’s about time we leave.”

Yuuri hadn’t realized Phichit had been in Detroit that long. Time was a strange thing, flowing past the likes of him and leaving them unchanged. It was a little different for Phichit who was ultimately mortal. But even he had centuries left.

Yuuri had never even really counted the years, let alone weeks or months, until Viktor crashed into his life.

He used to believe he had eternity left. Now he wasn’t so certain.

“What about your pack?” he asked, brining his attention back to the present.

Phichit’s lips turned down for a moment before he brightened up, the new smile not seeming too real.

“Well, it’ll have to break up. A couple may come with us but most are settled here. We’ll find a new one eventually. You know how it is.”

Yuuri hesitated for a moment, awkwardness settling over him like a second skin, but then he took the plunge and pulled Phichit into a hug. Phichit, though startled, melted into the touch with a soft sound that had Yuuri holding him tighter.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into Phichit’s hair. “I know packs are important to you.”

Phichit sniffed a little, arms tightening around Yuuri. Then he pulled back, smiling again but with eyes that were suspiciously bright.

“Yes, but, it’s not like – what can we do, really? We have a chat group though! We’ll keep in touch.”

Yuuri hummed noncommittally and squeezed Phichit’s hand. Most shape-shifters had some sort of close-knit communities. It wasn’t an instinct Yuuri had ever truly understood but he didn’t like to see Phichit upset.

He was right though. What could they do? Humans were, for better or for worse, the dominant species and in their turf, the rest played by their rules.

“I just wanted to warn you,” Phichit told him. “Though to be honest, I have no idea why you’re still working there.”

“Viktor likes it there.”

“But you hate it.”

“It’s not that bad. Okay, the ice rink was better but at least your place has books. That’s always nice.”

Phichit just shook his head, eyes rising heavenward. It was a gesture that had never become unfamiliar despite the long breaks between their meetings.

“I can’t with you, Yuuri. You just want to go back to Enforcing, don’t you? It’s been, what, three years now? You don’t usually last this long on vacation.”

“Circumstances are different this time.”

“Viktor.”

“Yes.”

“Well, talk to him then. Figure something out. Staying and working here was just a temporary solution, right? You guys need to plan your future better, what with his disappearing act and your extended break.”

Yuuri didn’t mean to say it but the words slipped out without permission.

“It’s not like we have a damned idea what our future will be, Phichit.”

For once, Phichit seemed to have nothing to say. He just gaped at Yuuri.

“I – never mind. We’ll figure it out. And I’ll talk to Viktor about the shop. No need to worry though, it’s not like either of us need the money.”

“I don’t pay you much anyway,” Phichit replied distantly. “Yuuri, are you alright?”

He grimaced.

“Yes, yeah, everything’s fine. I’m–” Not really fine but also not not fine. It was complicated. And he didn’t want to talk about it, not with anyone other than Viktor and mostly not even with Viktor. “We’ll be alright, Phichit.”

Phichit didn’t look like he believed Yuuri but to his credit, he didn’t push the matter.

“Okay… I guess I’ll go then. You and Viktor should come around soon. Ciao Ciao will be happy to fatten him up for you to drain again.”

Yuuri thought of Viktor, pale and tired in their bed, and had to swallow a groan at how accurate that was.

“We will. Actually, if you wait a moment, I’ll go change. I need to go buy some food.”

Phichit gave him a look that wasn’t too judgmental and nodded.

Yuuri rushed to their bedroom and very carefully did not look at Viktor while he dressed.

He still heard his heartbeat.

 

* * *

 

Viktor was awake when Yuuri returned, though he clearly hadn’t been for long if the way he blinked groggily about him through sleep-crusted eyes was any indication. Yuuri kissed him hello, murmuring sweet nothings to Viktor’s half-articulated complaint of waking up alone.

Viktor deigned to wobble over to the kitchen at Yuuri’s behest and inhaled his lunch. He paused long enough to kiss Yuuri with a mouth that smelled like fried meat before stumbling back to the bed for more sleep.

Yuuri followed him, dishes abandoned in favor of joining Viktor under the covers. Viktor showed his appreciation with a sloppy kiss to Yuuri’s bicep before he snuggled against him.

He expected Viktor to be out like a light in seconds. Instead, he just lay with his head pillowed on Yuuri’s shoulders, humming some garbled tune under his breath.

“Aren’t you sleepy?” Yuuri asked after a few minutes.

“Mm maybe? I’m just so tired.”

“My fault.”

“Ours,” Viktor corrected, patting Yuuri’s chest. “I wanted it.”

_You already are._

Phichit was right. Yuuri was hurting Viktor.

One look at the human was all anyone would need to realize that he was not in his best health and all the angry marks patterning his pretty flesh told an even more horrific tale. Viktor himself was not blind to this. He knew as well as Yuuri did that the bite was addictive and not designed to be kind to the recipient.

Yes, Yuuri was hurting Viktor, but Viktor had asked for it with an enthusiasm that rivaled Yuuri’s in giving it to him. That didn’t change how that Viktor didn’t have all the facts.

“Phichit was here,” Yuuri told Viktor. He intended to add what Phichit had said about the bookstore but the words that came out were different. “He’s worried about you.”

Viktor’s hand, which was drawing strange letters on Yuuri’s skin, stilled.

“What?” Viktor’s voice was far too quiet. “Why?”

Yuuri briefly considered the likelihood of being able to deflect that question. Viktor took him by the chin and forced Yuuri to meet his gaze.

“Well… _us_ more than just you, I think.” Yuuri placed his thumb on the recent bite mark on Viktor’s shoulder. The skin there was raised and hotter than the rest of Viktor. “He has a point too.”

“About what, Yuuri?”

There was a hint of irritation lacing Viktor’s tone.

“He thinks I’m hurting you with all the biting.”

The transformation that overtook Viktor was dizzyingly fast. The last dredges of sleep vanished from his eyes, brilliant blues going sharp and brittle as the frown on his face grew into a dark scowl. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, the comforting warmth of his body leaving Yuuri’s. Yuuri followed him, tucking his legs under him and leaning back against the headboard.

“He should know better,” said Viktor, voice tight with anger.

Yuuri shook his head tiredly.

“No, it’s not like that. He knows it’s consensual. Maybe not the extent to which it is consensual, but he has a decent idea about the nature of your feelings. He was referring more to the inevitable consequences of the bite.”

“The addiction? You told me about that long ago. And I feel it, every day. That’s fine, Yuuri, it’s not–”      

“Not just that,” Yuuri interrupted, smiling without mirth. “Pets don’t last long usually. Vampires tend to not care about the health of their prey. And humans being regularly fed on typically lose their minds and bodies to the bite. But it’s also not the kind of thing that garners as much attention as random killing sprees so vampires, not all of them or even most, but the ones that can be bothered, keep a human or two with them to eat at their leisure. A combination of addiction and compulsion keeps them docile. Some don’t even need that.”

Viktor, though he’d listened to Yuuri intently, didn’t look scared or even shocked, only thoughtful.

Yuuri couldn’t help but push a little.

“On my birthday, you told me, well showed me, your concept of pets. The reality’s quite different, isn’t it?”

Oddly, Viktor’s first reaction was to blush.

Yuuri could understand given the memory of that day still did _things_ to him but given the conversation at hand, he was surprised that Viktor’s mind decided to visit the gutter first.

“I like mine better,” Viktor said once the blush faded. “It’s clearly more fun.”

“Oh, yes, me too. It’s no competition. But Viktor…aren’t you missing the point?”

Viktor shrugged, implacable.

“Not really. You’re basically telling me your bite might end up killing me, yes?”

“Yeah but–”

“That’s not something I haven’t considered before, Yuuri. I have. Extensively in fact.”

Viktor had considered Yuuri killing him. Extensively.

He wished he could be surprised.

“And yet, you still bare your neck for me.”

“Of course! I trust you.”

Yuuri gripped his own hair, tugging none too gently. It didn’t help.

“Trust or not, Vitya, you’ll still die sooner rather than later if we go on like this.”

He almost expected another flippant response but when he raised his head to look at Viktor, he found him gazing back at Yuuri with a strange, pensive half-smile.

“There are worse ways to die,” Viktor told him. “Once, you told me you’d be kind.”

Something like horror wrapped barbed tendrils around Yuuri’s heart.

“Vitya,” Yuuri said with quiet dismay. “I’m not going to kill you.”

Viktor smiled a little bigger.

“I know, Yuuri! I’m just saying.”

“I – well, don’t. It’s not a joke.”

“I didn’t say I was joking. Really though, why are you telling me this?”

This was surreal.

If the earlier talk with Phichit had been uncomfortable and incomplete, this one with Viktor was just straight up bizarre.

“Because it concerns your _life_?”

Viktor tilted his head, doing that infuriatingly distracting puppy impression of his.

“You already said you won’t kill me. So why does it matter? Sure, it’s nice of Phichit to be concerned, but he doesn’t understand.”

At this point, Yuuri wasn’t sure of any of them understood anything. He took a deep breath. He was certain he hadn’t needed to breathe this much before he met Viktor.

“I figured you should know. And I don’t think you’ll be happy when I have to drink from someone else.”

 _That_ drew forth a more serious reaction.

The darkening of Viktor’s expression wasn’t on the same thunderous level it had been after Yuuri bit Yuri Plisetsky but it was close, a foreboding blend of anger and hurt that had Yuuri tensing up.

“How long?” Viktor asked, all levity gone.

“A few years. Five at maximum.”

Viktor relaxed, not by much but enough that Yuuri felt confident in leaning forward to touch his knee. Viktor didn’t react but he didn’t pull away either.

“Why didn’t you tell me this?”

Yes, that was the question, wasn’t it?

Yuuri didn’t have to think too hard on the answer, not when it was something not too far from his mind for months.

“I didn’t think I’d ever have to.”

At first, there was only confusion on Viktor’s face. Yuuri waited, nervous, until realization trickled. Then he spoke.

“In Hasetsu, I didn’t think that far ahead except in the vaguest terms. And afterwards…you know.”

“Oh. Yes, I guess that makes sense.”

“I’m sorry.”

Viktor shook off the apology, placing his hand over Yuuri’s. He didn’t seem satisfied with that, scooting up towards him so that he was almost in Yuuri’s lap.

“Five years… a lot can happen in that time, Yuuri. Nothing’s definite, remember?”

Yuuri lifted a hand to touch Viktor’s cheek, sallow and cooler than usual.

“Yeah, of course. We’ll work something out, Vitya.”

“We have time,” Viktor added, echoing words Yuuri had said so many times in the past.

He forced a smile.

“We do. You should rest now. Sorry I disturbed you.”

“You didn’t.” Viktor shifted around so he was lying with his head on Yuuri’s thigh. “This alright?”

“Always. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Mmhm, I know you like watching me sleep.”

With that, Viktor turned his head to the side, long dark hair falling over his face and hiding it from Yuuri’s prying gaze.

Yuuri watched, silent with his hands hovering over the top of Viktor’s head, until Viktor’s breathing deepened and evened out into the familiar rhythm of sleep. He was surprised it had happened so fast but then again, Viktor had probably been too tired to fret over what they’d said.

Yuuri set his hand down on the crown of Viktor’s head. He didn’t stir, not even when Yuuri pulled back the hair covering his face.

Viktor looked so peaceful, so pretty, so much like someone who deserved all the good things in life. And Yuuri knew the inside of him too, knew that he did indeed deserve all the good things in life.

“If I were a better man, I’d let you go.”

He ran a finger along an inch of silver close to Viktor’s scalp. It had to be dyed soon.

“I’m not though. And I want you always.”

Viktor remained asleep and unaware.

Time.

It was a nebulous concept. Yuuri remembered what it had been like in Hasetsu where they’d existed in a safe, secure bubble; their own little limited world that seemed to stretch on forever. Yuri had ruined that.

Yuuri no longer resented him for it. Viktor and he had needed a dose of reality for their relationship to be sustainable.

But the first uncertain weeks in Detroit had only been the start of a longer unraveling that left them here now, still together, still in love, still at home in each other’s arms, but with a future that loomed dark and murky.

Time for Viktor wasn’t time for Yuuri.

Viktor was thirty-one, neither young nor old. He’d be healthy too if not for Yuuri’s gluttony. He still was in remarkably good shape, keeping a softer version of his former athletic build with yoga, runs, and the occasional gym visit.

He’d live a long life if Yuuri managed to keep his teeth off him.

But what was ‘long life’ for a human?

A hundred years at most. Viktor had seventy left then.

Seventy years was _nothing_.

It was barely even a lifetime for Yuuri. And he would treasure every nanosecond of it if a human end was what Viktor ended up choosing, but the thought of that, of watching Viktor grow old until the light in his eyes dimmed and died, was torture.

Ever since the night they’d talked about Viktor’s mortality and decided to wait, Yuuri had been trying hard not to think about it.

Sometimes, he succeeded. Mostly, he failed.

He’d told Viktor all those months ago that he would respect his choice, that he’d love him no matter what. And Yuuri had meant it, every word and every breath. He had fears too about a Viktor changed, his humanity lost to the cold claws of false death.

But Yuuri was a vampire who’d never loved as deeply and fiercely as he had until a human with a death wish showed him what he could be. He didn’t know how Viktor expected him to go on without him.

Viktor probably wasn’t thinking about that. Seventy years, or even a few decades, were a long time to him.

There were times when Yuuri considered what it might be like if he were to change Viktor without consent. It was what most fledgling vampires experienced, himself included.

But a fire and a woman with a conflicted heart wasn’t the case here. Viktor didn’t know what he wanted. He’d shared that with Yuuri, expecting Yuuri to respect his choice and love him anyway.

Yuuri could do that. For Viktor, he could do that and more.

That didn’t change how, every happy moment he spent in Viktor’s company – and they were happy, freely and gloriously, their bond settling into something deeper and sweeter and also possibly filthier ever since November – fed the unease festering in his gut.

He was in over his head here.

Maybe a call for help was in order.

Yuuri looked at Viktor again, bending down to press his lips against his cheek. Viktor made a cute murmuring noise and rubbed his cheek against Yuuri’s thigh.

Yes, maybe.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has Viktor in pastel pink and a choker and IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT, MAD


	18. you bury me in the ocean floor beneath you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another unexpected visitor comes around, this time with her eyes on Yuuri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have some sweet, sexy communication.
> 
> And Minako!

March came, as did an unexpected guest.

There was a considerable difference between unexpected and unwanted, but considering their past history with such encounters, Viktor was naturally wary when one fine morning was made a little less fine by the commotion of a strange woman barging into their home.

She was only strange until Viktor got a good look at her face. Yuuri didn’t keep many pictures on his phone but in the few he had, she featured prominently.

Minako; currently Okukawa Minako, Yuuri’s aunt on paper.

Viktor knew what she really was. And he couldn’t help but be reminded of the last time a vampire had bestowed a visit on them. The after effects of that particular visit could still be felt in the way Yuuri’s eyes went blank and pensive as he stared through Viktor into some place yet beyond their reach.

All things considered, Viktor thought he could be excused for his rather cool welcome of the woman.

It helped that Minako was equally frosty towards him, the edges of her smile sharp enough to cut glass and her grip on his palm crushingly tight as they shook hands quickly.

Viktor almost felt a little sorry for Yuuri, trapped between the two of them and gaping like a fish out of water.

“But why are you here?” Yuuri asked for the umpteenth time, wringing his hands and looking so adorably pitiful that Viktor felt compelled to sidle to his side and press the whole length of his body against Yuuri’s.

Yuuri stiffened, eyes widening, before he relaxed into the contact. His arm came around Viktor’s waist, a solid touch that seemed to ground them both.

Minako watched, gaze narrow and assessing.

“Because you called me,” she said simply.

Yuuri made a sound that was equal parts confusion and frustration. Viktor patted him on the arm.

“Yes, I did. _Literally_. I did not ask you to come here. What the hell, Minako?”

Minako rolled her eyes, looking much younger than she should. Not that her physical appearance was in any way indicative of her age. Even Yuuri didn’t know anything except that she was fairly ancient.

Yuuri and Minako continued talking, rehashing points that had been already been said at least five times in the span of the two or so hours Minako had been here. She’d showed up before the break of dawn, waking Viktor from his blissful slumber. The worst thing was that the whole affair was no less befuddling now than it had been then, and it could be heard in the way Yuuri’s voice got higher and shriller as the conversation progressed nowhere.

It was clear though that he was leagues more comfortable with Minako than he had been with Lilia; comfortable enough that he had no trouble letting his emotions show in a way he rarely did with anyone but Viktor and, to a lesser extent, Phichit.

Curious.

Viktor took the chance to study Minako.

She was lounging on the couch, dressed in a white shirt and pinstriped blazer with matching slacks, long, dark hair left unbound down her back. There was something ageless about her, distinctly different from Yuuri’s and Phichit’s incongruous youth or Celestino’s apparent maturity. She was beautiful too, elegant and ethereal.

It all reminded him of Lilia.

But there were clear differences too. Minako had a warmth to her that Lilia lacked except in the rarest of moments. Viktor knew she’d be colder than a winter night if he were to walk over and touch her, but now, at a safe distance, with amusement sparking in her eyes and fondness softening her voice as she engaged Yuuri, Viktor felt as if he could easily grow to like her.

Maybe he already did. It was hard not to like someone who looked at Yuuri with such clear affection.

It helped that he already knew their relationship was familial rather than romantic. Otherwise, he might have been quite a bit more cross than he was presently.

Beside him, Yuuri broke off into a series of exclamations in some language Viktor couldn’t even identify let alone understand. The tone made it clear enough what the gist of it was and Minako’s sly “Such language, Yuuri” confirmed their profanity. Viktor was curious but mostly endeared by the way Yuuri looked one second away from propelling steam through his ears.

Viktor kissed his cheek.

It was cute, how Yuuri startled, head whipping around to stare at Viktor, right in time for Viktor to peck him on the lips.

“Calm down, Yuuri. Even I can see she’s just messing with you.”

Yuuri huffed, lips thinning as he shot Minako a glare. It was telling that, despite all the bluster and cursing, it was clear that Yuuri wasn’t actually angry. Viktor knew how his anger looked, even loved the way cold fury would sharpen the lines of his face and light an unholy fire in his gaze. But this wasn’t it.

Minako seemed to know it too because she was unperturbed, even ignoring Yuuri to focus on Viktor, her eyes dark and unreadable as they examined him from tip to toe.

“Hmm. I like this one,” Minako said, the barest hint of approval in her voice. “For now.”

Yuuri growled a little.

Viktor just blinked, bemused.

“Thank you?”

“Don’t thank her yet,” Yuuri replied, heaving a deep sigh that rang of defeat. “She’s a menace.”

“Yuuri gets it from me,” Minako quipped, and Viktor had to agree, smiling widely at Yuuri’s betrayed look.

“I’m going to regret this,” Yuuri whispered under his breath, arm tightening around Viktor. “How long are you here for, Minako?”

“Not long. Two weeks. I’d stay longer but my tenure in the Council isn’t over yet.”

“Good,” Yuuri said, a little more viciously than was warranted.

Viktor was unabashedly delighted. Petty Yuuri didn’t make an appearance often but it was always a treat when he did, doubly so when it wasn’t directed at Viktor, leaving him free to enjoy his pretty pouts to their fullest extent.

“Where are you staying?” Yuuri asked.

His expression was uncomfortably close to fear. Viktor felt a sense of foreboding.

Minako grinned like a shark.

“Here.”

Viktor expected another explosion. None came. Yuuri only looked intently at Minako for several long minutes while she held his gaze with a crooked smile and an ominous glint in her eyes.

“I – whatever. Vitya, are you alright with this?”

Viktor shrugged, shooting another quick glance at Minako.

“This is your home too,” Yuuri continued. “You get a say in this.”

Honestly, Viktor wasn’t too keen on his sanctuary with Yuuri being invaded for that long, especially since he had no idea why Minako had showed up so suddenly. On the other hand, dialogue until this point suggested that she was here for Yuuri and something he’d said, and well, it wasn’t like Viktor had spent all these days blind to the fact that Yuuri was growing increasingly bothered by something.

No, not just something. Viktor, his mortality, their relationship.

And Viktor was helpless to give him anything but soft non-answers.

Minako might help.

She knew Yuuri, she clearly cared for Yuuri, and she was here for Yuuri.

“I don’t mind,” Viktor answered finally, smiling gently at Yuuri before turning back to Minako. He smiled, wide and bright. “I’m excited to meet the woman who’s going to be my mother-in-law!”

Yuuri’s incoherent sputtering and Minako’s gobsmacked expression were well-worth enduring the sliver of insecurity that sprouted inside of him the moment those words left his lips.

Yuuri had never mentioned marriage.

Yuuri’s hand squeezing a handful of his waist prompted Viktor to look at him. He almost, and not at all, regretted it when his knees nearly buckled at the wide-eyed look of disarming tenderness Yuuri was giving him.

“That okay?” Viktor asked.

“Yes,” Yuuri murmured, wondering but firm. “Yes, Vitya.”

Minako cleared her throat loudly.

It took them both a whole minute to pry their eyes off each other and look at her. Minako appeared exasperated and equally amused.

“Well, lovebirds, what’s the plan today? We should _bond_. Right, Viktor?”

“Umm…”

“The plan–” Yuuri interjected, “–is for me and Vitya to go to work. You can explore Detroit or something.”

Minako’s unimpressed frown said exactly what she thought of that idea but she didn’t complain.

“Alright, fine. Show me to my room then.”

Yuuri sighed again, arm falling from Viktor’s body with palpable reluctance.

“Come one then, it’s this way.”

Their apartment was fairly small and cozy, just the right size for two men who shared a room. The guest room was tiny and opposite the hall from theirs.

Yuuri waited on the doorway of the living room for Minako to retrieve her suitcase from the foyer. He stared at Viktor while they waited, wry and apologetic. Viktor just smiled and blew him a kiss.

Minako caught the gesture, snorting as she marched past Viktor to Yuuri. Viktor blew his lover another kiss just for the hell of it.

It got Yuuri to smile, a small, shy thing that even now sent butterflies fluttering in Viktor’s belly. That was why it was equally disconcerting to see that smile vanish and be replaced by an expression of pure alarm as Minako passed Yuuri in the doorway.

“Minako!” Yuuri yelped. “Why do you smell like…”

He trailed off, the outrage dissipating as soon as it had appeared.

Viktor waited, curious, but Yuuri didn’t say anything else. His face was unnaturally blank as he turned on his heels and walked away, Minako following, her expression hidden to Viktor.

Huh.

Viktor collapsed on the couch Minako had vacated, head lolling back.

This had been a very exciting morning. He didn’t know what to feel about it yet. Minako’s presence was abrupt and unpredictable, and Viktor was wary, but he was hopeful too.

If his assumptions hadn’t been too off mark, then she could be good for Yuuri.

She could be good for Viktor too.

After all, he was as confounded as Yuuri was, just in different ways and for different reasons.

The awareness that there was a limit on how long he could feed Yuuri safely was bad enough. He could cope with that eventually, but the thought of Yuuri drinking from someone other than Viktor was unfathomable. He couldn’t let that happen.

But it would, one way or the other.

If Viktor remained human, then Yuuri would stop. He’d have to. It wasn’t like Viktor could ask him to drain him to death. Pleasant though it might be, he couldn’t do that to Yuuri.

If Viktor chose to be turned, the outcome would be the same. He couldn’t feed Yuuri if he wasn’t human. In fact, he’d need to feed himself, though the finer details of that were unknown to him and he remained hesitant to question Yuuri.

It would be a lie to say that Viktor didn’t flail at the thought of losing the mindless ecstasy Yuuri’s bite brought him. He didn’t even know if a vampire biting another vampire would induce that same intense pleasure in the one bitten.

He could ask Yuuri. No, he should ask Yuuri.

But…

He didn’t want to give him false hope.

Even if Viktor fell more and more in love with Yuuri each passing day, even if he found himself idling over thoughts of the two of them just like this ten or twenty or two hundred years from now, even if he couldn’t imagine growing tired of the world for as long as Yuuri was in the center of it, the fact remained that Viktor wasn’t _certain_.

Maybe he was just scared.

Either way, after all the pain this matter had caused them both, he wouldn’t be so cruel as to offer Yuuri something he so desperately wanted only to yank it away because Viktor was too fickle for his own good.

He was going to wait.

And he would love Yuuri with the force of a thousand burning suns as he did, making memories that would last all of eternity.

He sighed, wistful.

“Hey,” greeted a familiar voice. “Are you okay?”

Viktor opened his eyes and found Yuuri standing behind the couch, leaning over Viktor. Even upside-down, he was the most beautiful thing Viktor had ever seen.

“Yeah.” He puckered his lips and was immediately given a sweet little kiss. He beamed. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

 

* * *

 

“Are _you_ okay, Yuuri?” Viktor found himself asking less than a minute into their drive.

Yuuri was the one driving, a choice that Viktor was growing increasingly concerned with. The steering creaked ominously under Yuuri’s grip. He was pretty sure that shouldn’t be happening.

But all Viktor really needed to know all was not well was the expression of Yuuri’s face, dark and clouded like a late winter sky.

“I should be asking you that,” Yuuri answered after a while, low and clipped.

Viktor waited until Yuuri overtook another car without crashing to respond.

“You already did. And I said it was fine.”

“Makes one of us,” Yuuri muttered.

Viktor said nothing more for the rest of the drive, not keen on disturbing Yuuri any more than he already was. He didn’t have to wait long. They reached Scripts & Scrolls in record time. Yuuri had driven more swiftly and recklessly than Viktor had ever seen before.

Yuuri’s demeanor didn’t change much once they were inside the store. His lips were thin and eyes intense behind his glasses, forming a picture that was gloriously beautiful but entirely too cold.

Normally, Yuuri would take up his place behind the counter while Viktor hovered nearby, happily basking in Yuuri’s proximity while he read a book and waited for customers to arrive.

Today, Viktor took Yuuri by the hand and tugged him over to the seating area nestled among the bookshelves. Yuuri followed, silent but docile, and allowed Viktor to push him down on one of the love seats. He leaned back, gaze set on Viktor who sat down beside him, body turned towards Yuuri.

“Tell me what’s bothering you.”

Yuuri’s frown slipped into a scowl, looking for a moment like he’d refuse. He didn’t though, only let out an explosive sigh.

“I didn’t know she was going to come here.”

Yes, Viktor had got that impression this morning.

He didn’t really understand why though. Yuuri cared for Minako, maybe even saw her as a mother. By all accounts, she was one of the few people for whom he had any affection. And he couldn’t see why the surprise visit, after the initial shock, would be so upsetting.

He said as much, gently stroking the back of Yuuri’s hand as he did.

Yuuri sighed again, quieter this time. He looked almost embarrassed.

“I do care but I’m not… I don’t like surprises.”

Yuuri’s expression said that he had more to say but no words were forthcoming. Viktor kept his hand over Yuuri’s, curious and patient.

He knew Yuuri would talk to him when he was ready.

“I called her again. For advice. She didn’t say much, but she let me talk. And now she’s here, and I can imagine why, but it’s not something I expected or even wanted. I’m not really mad at her but I’m just irritated, I guess, at the situation. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Viktor looked down at their clasped hands, pale and paler, joined together.

Yuuri seeking advice could only be for what Viktor already suspected.

A flash of guilt burned through his heart but he fought it down. They’d talked about this and made their decision. They both simply had their own things to work through. There was no one who could help Viktor except himself, and he was doing quite fine in that regard. Yuuri, though, must have truly been troubled if he went ahead and contacted Minako. And if she, who’d known him for centuries, felt the need to come here and support him, he probably needed it.

“Why though?” Viktor said after a pause. “Yuuri, you know, don’t you, that it’s fine to need help.”

Yuuri grimaced.

“She can’t help. I know that. I knew what even when I called her. I need to figure this out on my own.”

Viktor could understand that.

“Okay. But we can be there for you while you do. You didn’t abandon me when I said I didn’t know if I want to be a vampire with you. You’re still here. So why should she, or me for that matter, abandon you when you’re having trouble coping with that decision.”

Yuuri made a little noise that was pure, distilled surprise, his pretty eyes widening at Viktor who rolled his own with a smile.

“Of course I guessed that’s why she’s here. Come now, love.”

“I was…hoping you wouldn’t?”

“Come now, Yuuri, we talked about this. Communication. Though I don’t need you to spell it out for me in this case. I never expected you to just sit by and wait for me to make my decision. I always noticed. And it’s fine. No matter what you’re feeling, thinking, wanting, it’s all fine. I understand.”

A complicated set of emotions passed through Yuuri’s face. A strange smile quirked his lips, clashing with the morose set of his face.

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what thoughts actually go through my mind.”

“Good thing I’m not a mind reader then,” Viktor chirped brightly. Really, what was Yuuri expecting by this point? “Because we both know how reasonable and rational and logical and _full_ of common sense everything I’ve done in regard to you have been.”

“Uh, well,” Yuuri started, but Viktor cut him off, smiling wider, sharper.

“No, no, Yuuri, let’s do a little review. You pulled me from an ocean, told me you knew my name, and offered me a place in your home. I didn’t run screaming back to the ocean but stayed with you. I realized you were a vampire and me the hero of an honest-to-god horror story, but I stayed. I saw you sucking a man’s blood and gave you my own. My student came to Russia to make me go back with him. I watched you attack him, reduce him to a pale shadow of himself. I was angry, and hurt, and I stayed. My old mentor came to warn me off. I listened to her, and _I still stayed_.”

Viktor was panting by the end, fingers digging harshly into Yuuri’s hand. Yuuri was frozen in his seat, not even breathing as he gaped at Viktor.

“I stayed,” Viktor repeated, calm again. “I chose you. Over and over and over. Beyond all sense and reason, I chose you. I will keep choosing you. You could tear out my heart and swallow it whole, but it would still beat for you.”

He leaned in, close enough to feel Yuuri’s chill.

“I know you’re not a good man. You don’t need to be. I love you the way you are.”

Yuuri shuddered.

“I know,” he whispered, meeting Viktor halfway. Their lips touched. “I don’t always remember. But I know.”

The kiss was brief and hard, leaving Viktor’s lips pleasantly tingling.

“I meant it when I said I’d respect your wishes, Vitya.”

“I never doubted you wouldn’t.”

Yuuri’s smile this time had the vaguest hint of amusement.

“Didn’t you just say that I’m not a good man?”

“You’re good to me. That’s all that matters.”

Yuuri’s eyes fluttered close. Viktor kissed each lid and the center of his forehead, mouthing his love against cold flesh.

“Minako’s going to love you,” Yuuri said after some time, chuckling lightly.

“Right. I’m sure the way she was glaring daggers at me in the morning was just a fluke.”

“Don’t think I didn’t see you glare right back, Viktor Nikiforov. That’s a good thing though. She’ll like you.”

“Because I was rude to her?”

“You were rude on my behalf,” Yuuri corrected, lifting Viktor’s hand to kiss mouth for a gentle peck. “Not many people stand up to Minako, no matter what the reason. I know she approves.”

Viktor was skeptical but he wasn’t going to argue with Yuuri on this.

“If you say so,” he conceded, “I hope it’ll be good for you to have her close.”

Yuuri’s expression slipped a little but he didn’t return to the grim hostility of before.

“I don’t know. Maybe. It’s been a long time since she’s had to hold my hand like this.”

Really, this man.

Viktor tightened his grip on the hand he already had in his grasp.

“She won’t be. That’s my prerogative now. But there’s nothing wrong with a bit of, hmm what’s the term… Moral support? Or amoral support. Yes, that sounds better.”

“Vitya, that doesn’t even make sense.”

“You know what I mean though.”

Yuuri made a face as if to say yes, he knew exactly what Viktor meant and was regretting everything that led up to this point. It was cute. And Viktor just had to poke the adorable little furrow between his brows, an act that only caused Yuuri to scowl harder.

“My Yuuri,” Viktor whispered, because it was true and because he could.

Yuuri’s face softened immediately, affection flooding in.

“Thank you, Vitya. I needed to hear this.”

Viktor closed his eyes, raising their still twined hands to rest his forehead on. Yuuri was a bit too cold now. He’d have to feed soon. Still, it was soothing to feel him like this.

Viktor straightened reluctantly, a new thought occurring.

“Yuuri, who’s Minako going to eat while she’s here?”

“Um, I don’t know? Don’t worry about it, she can take care of herself.”

“If you say so. You feeding on me won’t bother her?”

Viktor had meant it innocently enough but the horror that grew on Yuuri’s face instantly put him on guard.

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri surged forward, grabbing Viktor by the shoulder and getting all in his face in a way that would have been hot if it wasn’t so alarming.

“Vitya. We’re not having sex while Minako’s here.”

Viktor blinked. And then blinked again.

He didn’t need to ask why. The dismayed panic in Yuuri’s voice did an excellent job of reminding him of what vampire hearing was like in close quarters.

But Minako was here for two weeks.

“No. Absolutely not, Yuuri.”

“But–”

“Katsuki Yuuri, you are _not_ going to deny me for two full weeks.”

“She’ll hear!”

“ _I don’t care_.”

“But Vitya – ah!”

Viktor didn’t purposefully interrupt Yuuri. It wasn’t his fault that Yuuri couldn’t speak with a hand cupping his crotch.

He squeezed Yuuri through his pants, gratified to feel him stir through the fabric. Yuuri bit his lips, not telling Viktor off.

“You really want to play this game, Yuuri? I promise, you’ll lose.”

“I’ll lose either way,” Yuuri forced through gritted teeth. “Because either I don’t fuck you for more days than we’ve gone without sex since we started sleeping together, or I let the woman who’s practically my mother hear just what you sound like when I make you scream.”

It was Viktor’s turn to squirm.

“I’m sure she’ll understand our plight.”

“She’s more likely to understand that you’ve got an exhibitionist streak.”

“You’re half-hard in the middle of a bookstore with just my hand on your cock. I don’t think you have room to talk, Y _uu_ ri.”

Yuuri growled, baring his teeth as Viktor ground the heel of his palm into the growing hardness under his hand.

He grinned.

“Lock the door,” Yuuri panted. “Then I’ll show you just how hard I can get in the middle of a bookstore.”

Viktor hummed, pretending to consider.

“I don’t know, Yuuri. We’re supposed to be working. What would Phichit think?”

Yuuri’s hand clamped down on top of Viktor’s, pressing it down harder against the visible bulge in his slacks.

“Trust me, he wouldn’t care.” Red blossomed in Yuuri’s gaze, sending a fiery bolt straight to Viktor’s dick. “Lock the door, Vitya.”

He’d much rather sink to his knees then and there.

But he forced himself to stand and cross over to the front, locking the door and flipping the sign with trembling fingers.

He almost ran back; not that Yuuri, with his legs spread and pants tented, would be in any position to laugh at him if he had.

Viktor, eyes on the hardness still covered by cloth, sank to his knees between Yuuri’s legs. He’d ache later when he got up but it would be worth it to feel Yuuri swell and shudder in his mouth. He tore his gaze from Yuuri’s groin and up to his face, grinning slow and wicked when he found heavy-lidded red locked onto his mouth. He licked his lips, satisfaction thrumming in his veins at the way it made Yuuri swallow audibly.

He leaned forward, too eager to tease much, and pressed a close-mouthed kiss to the bulge of Yuuri’s cock. He mouthed at it, relishing Yuuri’s bitten-off groan.

It didn’t take more than a minute for a hand to fist in his hair, Yuuri pulling his head back. Viktor sighed at the sting, staring at the wet spot he’d left behind on Yuuri’s pants.

He licked his lips again, slower, lewder.

“Fuck,” Yuuri said, quiet and emphatic.

Pride coiled hot and tight in Viktor’s chest as he watched Yuuri fumble with his zipper, almost tearing it out in his attempt to free his dick. They’d been together nearly a year and yet he could still reduce Yuuri to a creature of base need.

Granted, Viktor was very much the same and he hoped it remained so for the rest of their lives, but he was also sure that Yuuri got the same possessive kick from Viktor turning into a pliant mess under his hands.

Yuuri’s cock was hard and thick, flushed with borrowed blood and dry as a desert. Viktor ached to have it in his mouth.

“Yuuuuri,” he whined, tugging lightly against the grip on his hair. “Let me.”

Yuuri, delightfully indulgent in giving Viktor all he wanted and then some more, answered by guiding Viktor closer to his cock. The head of it brushed his mouth, Yuuri wrapping a hand around the shaft to rub it gently against Viktor’s lips. Viktor flicked his tongue, dipping the tip into the foreskin.

Yuuri’s hips bucked, cock sliding along Viktor’s cheek. Viktor followed it with a hungry mouth, taking the head inside and suckling, soft at first and then harder, shivering in pleasure at Yuuri’s high-pitched moan. The hand in his hair wasn’t gripping anymore, just resting, fingers splayed along Viktor’s scalp and twitching arhythmically as Viktor worked Yuuri into his mouth inch by inch, pulling back every few seconds to lavish the head with attention.

His own dick throbbed between his legs. Viktor appeased it by pressing one hand on top of it, massaging distractedly through his jeans. It was Yuuri, his sounds, his hand, his cock, that really held his attention.

There was something to be said, joint pain aside, to kneeling between Yuuri’s legs, taking him apart with hands and mouth until he was panting and desperate.

Viktor could spend forever like this.

And it did feel like forever, a most pleasant kind, as he lost track of time, caught up in the erratic movement of Yuuri’s cock down his throat and the building heat searing through his own body.

Yuuri came with Viktor’s mouth stretched wide around him, swallowing him to the root.

Viktor felt that old twinge of disappointment that there was no hot seed spilling down his throat and dripping down his chin, but he pushed that aside with the ease of practice, focusing instead keeping his tongue working, teasing along Yuuri’s softening length until Yuuri made a little whimpering noise and pulled out.

Viktor eyed Yuuri’s cock, spent and wet with spit, proudly and pressed one last kiss to the head.

“Vitya,” Yuuri gasped, sounding torn between laughter and desire.

“Yuuri,” he countered gamely, the tail end of the name lost in a groan as Viktor pressed his hand tighter against his own cock. “ _Yuuri_.”

Yuuri answered his unspoken plea immediately, sliding down to join Viktor on the floor and unbuckling his belt. He unceremoniously pushed Viktor’s jeans and underwear down as far as they would go, taking hold of his leaking cock. Viktor let his own hand fall to his side, leaning with his forehead on Yuuri’s shoulder and eyes on his working hands.

Yuuri jerked him firm and fast, thumb sliding along the slit every other stroke and smearing wetness along the exposed head, just the way Viktor liked. He lost himself in the pleasure pulsing through his body, vision blurring and veins burning. He muffled his sounds against Yuuri’s chest, words and cries lost in the spit-soaked cotton of his shirt.

Climax washed over him like a gentle wave, leaving him trembling and sagged in Yuuri’s arms.

“Wow,” Viktor muttered once he caught his breath.

Yuuri made a noise that could only be agreement.

“We should do this more often,” Viktor said, standing up, clinging to Yuuri when his legs protested the movement.

“Fuck during work?”

Yuuri’s voice was blank, as if he couldn’t say whether he found the idea appealing or appalling. Viktor wasn’t fooled. He collapsed to the couch, waggling his eyebrows at Yuuri.

“I’d rather not,” Yuuri lied, standing up. He was looking at some spot on the wall, mouth pursed to hold back a smile. “It’s a bad idea.”

Viktor grabbed Yuuri by the hips, pulling him forward a step. Yuuri’s groin was right in front of Viktor’s face; his soft cock twitched at the chaste kiss Viktor brushed to the base.

“See, Little Yuuri disagrees! You want to fuck in public, don’t you, Little Yuuri?”

Viktor grinned up at Yuuri, snorting unattractively at the dead look in Yuuri’s eyes.

“Vitya…please stop talking to my dick.”

“I think your dick likes me talking to it.”

“It’s limper than a noodle even with your mouth an inch away. I’d say that speaks for itself.”

Well, Viktor couldn’t argue against that.

“Fine, be that way. I proved my point though. Still think you can hold out on me? Maybe I should try out that new vibrator we got. Climb in bed with it inside, wrap around you, hard and open.” Viktor nuzzled Yuuri’s thigh, the tense muscle there as telling as Yuuri’s dazed expression. “How long would you keep your hands off me? A second? A whole minute?”

“I wouldn’t,” Yuuri whispered, pulling away. Viktor pouted theatrically but Yuuri ignored him in favor of zipping back up. “I never thought I could.”

That was all Viktor had needed to hear.

He really didn’t want to _behave_ for two weeks, Minako or no Minako. But he didn’t actually want to make Yuuri uncomfortable either.

“Yuuri, you know I’m not going to force you. I don’t like it, yeah, but I know that just because I have no shame doesn’t mean you don’t. It’s fine. We can fool around here, or get a hotel or something.”

Yuuri seemed to consider it for a moment but then shook his head, lips quirking a bit.

“It’s not like I’d manage to play nice that long either. Hotel’s a good idea but it’d be kind of rude. I guess we’ll see.”

“Worst case scenario, you can consider it payback for all the times you had to listen to her and Lilia?” Viktor offered, the answering expression on Yuuri’s face making it clear that he was not helping.

“Minako has no shame either, Vitya.”

“Oh. Damn.”

Yuuri sighed.

“Like I said, we’ll see.”

Viktor could only nod and hold on to the hope that his imminent future would not involve cockblocking.

 

* * *

 

In the end, they didn’t need to abstain or sacrifice Yuuri’s dignity.

Minako was far more unobtrusive than her explosive entrance had suggested. She spent most of the day in her room, ostensibly doing work things on her laptop. When she emerged in the evening, it was usually to whisk Yuuri away for long walks from which he returned alone, thoughtful but calm. He offered no details about their conversations, and Viktor did not ask. And when Yuuri held Viktor tighter in bed and wrapped him close in his cool embrace, Viktor silently melted in his arms, whispering his love in the spaces between one heartbeat and the next.

Only in the mornings would Minako return, dressed in the previous night’s clothes and as fresh as a daisy. Sometimes, she smelled of alcohol.

Viktor’s confusion on the matter was allayed by Yuuri who told him of Minako’s tendency to frequent bars and clubs, mingling with the humans there even when she wasn’t on the prowl for prey.

She never talked to Viktor beyond the occasional greetings. But whenever they were in the same room together, Viktor could feel her eyes on him.

As the date of Minako’s departure drew near, Viktor found that he was more discomfited than he wanted to be by the lingering distance between himself and a person so important to Yuuri.

That changed one Saturday morning, two days before Minako was supposed to leave.

Yuuri had left for the book store an hour ago. He’d been reluctant to leave, as he always was these days, particularly when Viktor wasn’t with him. It was as if Phichit’s warning that Scrolls & Scripts would be handed over to another in a few weeks had killed whatever will Yuuri had to at least pretend to like working there.

Viktor appreciated the way Yuuri prioritized Viktor’s happiness so much, but he’d have to sit down and have a nice talk with Yuuri about how he’d happily live in the middle of a forest if it meant Yuuri was with him.

Alright, that was an exaggeration; he did not want to be anywhere that didn’t have modern plumbing and good internet, but the sentiment remained.

He was happy with their stay in Detroit and everything they’d achieved here. He was even glad for the friendly chatter Phichit’s fellow wolves had offered him. But he was also absolutely ready to start a new chapter of his life with Yuuri by his side.

He was putting off talking about it until Minako left and their life settled back to its old, cozy rhythm. Viktor was realizing that they both had a bad habit of postponing important conversations, but at least this one was of far less significance than the matter of Viktor’s turning or that of the consequences of prolonged feeding.

They were learning.

“You look like you’re thinking about Yuuri.”

Viktor started, dropping out of the pose he’d been holding.

Minako stood in the doorway to the living room, one dainty eyebrow arched as she stared at the yoga mat and Viktor draped along its length.

“What?”

“You have this little smile,” Minako helpfully supplied, walking into the room. “It’s creepy. Cute, but creepy.”

“Thanks?”

It would have been strange if Viktor did not smile while thinking about Yuuri. It was _Yuuri_. Not just strange, it was incomprehensible. Blasphemy, really.

As for being called creepy, Viktor had to admit that he had no idea what Minako was talking about.

“Yuuri’s at work.”

“Yes….?”

“But not you, not today, hm?”

Viktor nodded, bemused. Minako knew all this. She’d been here last Saturday too, but she’d spend all day in her room while Viktor wasted hours rehearsing possible conversations that had never happened.

Though apparently, it was happening now.

“Yuuri hates it there.”

Viktor frowned at the almost accusing tone Minako was using. He finally pushed himself up, ineffectually attempting to wipe the sweat off his brow.

“I know. Did he tell you that?”

“He didn’t need to, Nikiforov. I know what makes Yuuri tick. Quaint cashier positions with your local friendly werewolves don’t even make the cut.”

Viktor frowned harder.

“I know that too.”

Minako’s eyes were hard as they raked over him.

“Do you now? You must also know then, that he’s here because of you.”

“Yes,” Viktor replied, smiling, perfectly pleasant. “I do.”

Minako looked silently, intently at him for several moments. Viktor met her gaze unwaveringly, keeping the smile tight on his mouth. After several tense seconds, Minako snorted.

“You’re an interesting one, Viktor. You’d have to be, I suppose, to ensnare Yuuri so thoroughly.”

“You make it sound like I seduced him with my wiles.”

It was an oddly hilarious idea, enough so that Viktor was more amused than annoyed. If anything, the reality was that Yuuri had bewitched him, not by any trickery but through the simple act of existing.

“All love is a little wily,” Minako replied. “How else would any of us bind another soul so tightly to us? But no, that’s not what I meant. Sit down, won’t you? Let’s talk.”

“You’ve had plenty of opportunities to talk to me this last two weeks,” Viktor said, obeying all the same. Minako joined him on the couch, sitting on the other end with her body turned towards him. “Is this a, what’s the term…shovel talk?”

“A what?”

“You know, the one where you say you’ll kill me and hide my body if I ever hurt Yuuri.”

Saying that out loud made Viktor all the more aware of how Minako would surely be able to back up such words with action. She was a vampire. She’d killed before.

“Do I need to?” Minako asked.

“You don’t have the right,” Viktor replied simply. “I belong to Yuuri.”

 _That_ finally got him an interesting reaction, a kind of stunned amusement that reminded Viktor of how Phichit would get when either Viktor or Yuuri slipped up and said something that was not meant for an outsider’s ears.

He grinned, smug.

Embarrassment was an alien concept. He’d tattoo Yuuri’s name along every inch of his skin and wear it proudly.

Yuuri might mind though. He did like to bite.

“I…see,” Minako said after a pause. “You’re not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“Someone different. Or maybe many different someones since every source I found had something different to say. Take the media for one. Russia’s pet legend and god of figure skating; a charismatic playboy, famous since his youth. You can imagine what I thought when I read up on you, Viktor Nikiforov.”

Viktor dropped his smile, allowing a grimace to take its place.

He’d been staying well away from any media mentions of himself since Lilia had managed to sort things out in Russia, sweeping his supposed disappearance neatly under the rug. Even before that, he’d been religiously avoiding the plastic image the press liked to paint of him. He’d shed all of that. With Yuuri, he was just flesh and blood, human and fallible and loved.

“Yeah, precisely,” Minako said, nodding at his expression. “I couldn’t even reconcile the guy Yuuri kept gushing about with what I read so I figured it must be mostly lies. I know how fame can get.”

“Yuuri gushed about me?”

Minako narrowed her eyes at him, possibly judging him for choosing to focus on that.

“He’s smitten with you, Viktor. Of course he gushed, at least after he stopped being so tight-lipped that I wasn’t certain if his lover was some star-jumping alien.”

“Just a plain old human, I’m afraid,” Viktor piped cheerfully, warmth bubbling up in his chest at the thought of Yuuri talking like that about him. “What’d he say?”

“Are you serious – no, of course, you’re as ridiculous as he is. I’m too damn old and tired to repeat any of that to you but let’s just say I don’t want to hear ‘power of love’ be used unironically in a sentence ever again.”

Viktor felt his cheeks warm, a giddy smile breaking out.

Minako took in the sight with something like horror on her face.

“I can’t believe it,” she whispered. “You’re actually _worse_.”

“He’s so sweet!” Vikror cooed.

He was tempted to ditch this conversation and call Yuuri to tell him he loved him. But that would be rude. He settled for clutching his chest; his heart suddenly too big to be contained.

“I – you know what, you two are perfect for each other. I don’t know why I was ever worried.”

The words were sarcastic but there was hint of seriousness in them, as if Minako almost believed what she was saying. In this, though, Viktor could be completely confident in his response.

“We are. Yuuri’s the love of my life.”

Minako didn’t seem reassured. She smiled but it was a slow, forlorn thing.

“You’re his too. I think you know what.”

Viktor nodded, unsure why she said it like it was a death sentence. Surely she wasn’t comparing her own love to life to Yuuri’s? People didn’t work like that.

“Lilia told me a lot about you too. But she told me that you’d changed too.”

For a moment, Viktor couldn’t speak.

“Lilia? You’ve talked to her?”

“I’m living with her.”

_What._

“But Yuuri said… sorry, it’s none of my business but–”

“You’re shocked we’re back together,” Minako cut in, a sardonic smirk twisting her pretty face into sharper lines. “Don’t worry. Yuuri would be too. I’m sure he knows. He can smell her on me. But he doesn’t ask. He can’t ignore it if he does.”

Viktor couldn’t really blame him.

“I don’t blame him,” Minako continued as if reading his mind. “He doesn’t really understand. Sometimes, I don’t either.”

“Neither do I,” Viktor confessed, curious in spite of himself. “I remember her being married to Yakov, and everything Yuuri told me, and… doesn’t it hurt?”

Minako sighed. For the fraction of a second, Viktor could see each and every one of her years reflected in her eyes.

“Of course it does. But she’s mine, boy. It doesn’t matter who she fucks or loves in the mean time. She’ll always be mine.” Minako chucked, mirthless. “And I hers. We’ve doomed each other. That’s what you’re in for too, you know.”

“Damnation?” Viktor found the voice to ask, a part of him reeling still.

“Obsession. An endless infinity of it.”

He smiled.

“I know. Obsession or damnation, as long as it’s with Yuuri, I’m happy.”

This time, Minako expressed neither incredulity nor exasperation, only acceptance.

“I believe you.”

Silence descended. Viktor looked away from Minako.

It had been a shock to hear that Minako and Lilia were back together. Yuuri hadn’t said anything though it was clear he was making great efforts not to know for sure. But Viktor was certain that Yuuri would be there for Minako if she were to need him in the potentially unpleasant aftermath. Viktor, for his part, could only imagine Lilia and Minako together, both terribly beautiful, and hope that they found their own peace.

Minako at least seemed to feel some measure of it.

 _She’ll always be mine_ , she’d said.

It eased something inside Viktor to hear those words. Despite all the pain they’d endured, they still kept choosing each other. It wasn’t what he wanted with Yuuri. He wanted to love Yuuri and be loved by him for every second of the rest of their lives. But even if that was an unrealistic dream born of the fresh flush of love, and their reality was something more like the bloody tales of obsession Viktor had come across in vampire lore, then that – that was fine too.

He’d take it.

It would be enough.

As long as he had Yuuri, he’d take obsession and damnation and everything in between, the sweet and the bitter.

“I want to be his forever too,” Viktor said quietly.

“You already are.”

Minako didn’t question Viktor’s current mortality, but when he raised his head to look her in the eye, he found her somber with knowledge.

“I feel the same way.”

She only smiled, small and almost sweet. It was short-lived, vanishing as soon as it’d come.

“This isn’t really a shovel talk, Viktor. Yuuri’s life is his own. I just wanted to talk to you. If you want a mother-in-law, I can’t be much of one. I’m not for mothering. Yuuri can attest to that. But one day in the future, if you want, I’ll be glad to call you son.”

Viktor reached across the gulf of black leather between them, her hand meeting his halfway through in a gentle clasp.

“Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

Minako left on Monday night, yanking Yuuri into an embrace that he returned after a momentary pause.

Viktor, smiling at the sight, was shocked when he was reeled into a hug of his own, Minako’s arms twining tight like cold steel.

“Take care of him,” she whispered, barely a breath, as she let go.

Then she was gone, leaving Viktor frozen.

“You already do,” Yuuri told him, sounding fond.

Viktor kissed him, smile on his lips and warmth in his heart.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited most of this while my brain tried to escape my skull through my eyes. Urk. Sorry for any remaining errors.


	19. ancient language, speak through fingers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another moonlit night, and peace instead of pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing to say except that I want to sleep

Phichit, being Phichit, decided to go out with a bang.

To be fair, it was a quieter bang than what Yuuri expected. The gathering at the bookstore with Phichit’s pack, Viktor, and Yuuri was surprisingly small-scale. Yuuri had thought that half the supernatural creatures in Michigan might show up.

But then, as he watched Phichit and Celestino talk to their packmates with wide smiles that were no less bittersweet for their cheer, he though he understood why.

He never could understand how Phichit could get so attached so easily. Before Viktor, he hadn’t even had any basis of comparison. Minako was his maker and had been his only anchor in a confounding world. Phichit had wormed his way into Yuuri’s heart after years of effort. Viktor was different, giving Yuuri a taste of what it felt like to love hard in free fall.

It was terrifying to think of feeling anything remotely like that so _casually_.

And yet, Phichit was smiling through his sorrow, hugging the other wolves and drinking with them, their voices growing louder as the night progressed. Some lost their clothes. Yuuri watched with mild trepidation as piles of half-naked werewolves started forming on the couches.

He wasn’t precisely happy to be here. He had no attachment to any of these people or even to the bookstore. Only Phichit and Celestino mattered but the four of them were having dinner the next day, a personal farewell of their own.

But Viktor cared.

Even though he and Yuuri had yet to make any concrete plans, it was the unspoken assumption that they too would leave Detroit once Scrolls & Scripts closed and their friends left. Yuuri was thinking of returning to enforcing. They had to talk about it, hash out the details. But all the same, their time here was limited and it seemed apt that Viktor also bid his new friends, if they could really be called that, goodbye.

He didn’t seem sad like Phichit though. In fact, Viktor’s eyes were gleaming and his mouth constantly grinning as he flitted from wolf to wolf, leaving their expressions a little brighter in his wake.

He was beautiful and happy, and Yuuri didn’t want to share, but he was quite aware of when his possessiveness went too far. Viktor was delightfully indulgent of it, but Yuuri had a responsibility to be good to him too.

That didn’t mean he had to like it.

Yuuri sighed and took his eyes off Viktor, not without effort. He’d sequestered himself in a cozy corner the moment they’d stepped inside. It was reminiscent of their first night here; back then, Yuuri had been boiling with anger, every one of his instincts screaming at him to take his vulnerable mate away from the multiple threats and _flee_.

It was easier tonight, the worst of it just the occasional twinges in his chest when he looked at Viktor standing a little too close to nails that could become claws in one lethal second.

It wasn’t just Yuuri who was different tonight. The others were too. He didn’t attract as many hostile stares as he had all those months ago, and Viktor was looked upon with soft fondness rather than wary confusion. Yuuri could empathize. Viktor was magnetic.

The place was different too. Phichit, as always, was scarily efficient. It had been barely forty-eight hours ago that Yuuri got the call about the store’s sale being finalized, and already the bookstore was stripped bare, leaving only this little backroom furnished. Yuuri would bet a limb that by tomorrow night, this would also change.

He wouldn’t miss any of it. He just hoped that Viktor would deal with it well. He’d seemed remarkably cavalier when they’d discussed it before, and expressed nothing but genuine excitement when Phichit invited them here tonight. But it would take an actual conversation before Yuuri could be sure of, well, anything.

“Still too good for us, vampire?” said a gruff voice at his right.

Yuuri’s head snapped in that direction, finding a young woman leaning against the wall a respectable distance away from him. She’d spoken softly enough that only Yuuri, with his sensitive hearing, picked it up. The rest of the party were all absorbed in their own conversations.

Yuuri returned his gaze to the woman. She was vaguely familiar; not a regular at the bookstore for sure. He probably saw her at the first gathering then.

“I don’t like crowds,” Yuuri replied, the truth if not the whole truth.

From her smirk, she seemed to have guessed as much. For some reason, she decided to creep closer, stopping within touching distance from Yuuri. She mirrored his posture, facing the room, and crossing her arms in front of her. He could see corded muscles shift under her skin with the movement.

“Okukawa, is it?”

“Yes. You are…?”

“Chandrika. Alpha of the local pack. Phichit said he’d introduce us but then he bailed. Said you were shy.”

And that would be why Phichit was Yuuri’s best and worst friend.

“I…see.”

He thought – hoped – that would be it and that she’d leave him be.

Of course she didn’t.

She was silent though, and the one time Yuuri chanced a glance, he found her quietly surveying the room with a faint smile.

He kept quiet too, racking his memory for any mention Phichit had made about his alpha. Nothing came to mind but then again, Yuuri retained maybe half of what Phichit told him, owing to their wildly varying degrees of interest in other people.

Chandrika looked young but she smelled old. How old, Yuuri had no idea. Her position wouldn’t tell him much either. Shapeshifters, unlike vampires, didn’t place much stock on age. They were built on animal instinct and sheer power. All Yuuri knew of werewolf pack hierarchy was that the strongest wolf led.

He didn’t need details to know that she had the potential to be a threat. He wasn’t exactly worried, but the part of him that logic couldn’t quite reach bristled anyway.

“They’ll miss your human,” Chandrika spoke after several long minutes had passed. “They like him.”

“Vitya seems to have that effect on people. I’m sure they’ll get over it.”

She snorted.

“So fucking possessive. All of you vampires are the same.”

Yuuri disagreed. He’d seen and heard of several stunning catastrophes during his time, had even had premier seats to one of the worst. He knew well how unique they all were in their own, dreadfully fascinating way. But he wasn’t about to say that and willfully extend this conversation.

When Chandrika spoke next, the light-hearted humor in his voice was gone, replaced with quiet severity.

“Are you leaving too?”

“I don’t see how it is your concern.”

“Hah, I wish. We’ve somehow stumbled into being the peacekeepers of this region. We left you alone because Phichit vouched for you, and he’s trustworthy, but once he’s gone, I have no guarantee that you’ll behave.”

Yuuri sighed, fighting off the urge to just walk out.

“Again, none of your concern. We police our own kind, which you should know if you’re as old as you smell.”

“Well that’s rude,” she said drily. But when Yuuri turned to look at her, her expression was stony. “Yes, I know, Okukawa, but there are few vampires here. Far too few for your priced Enforcers to bother with. Someone’s gotta pick up the slack.”

Apparently, Phichit hadn’t spilled the beans on what exactly Yuuri did among vampires. That was probably a good thing. He wasn’t unaware of how their forces were distributed based on numbers. Regular patrols were reserved for places with large vampire population, usually busy cities, and other places were just given perfunctory checks unless anyone went ahead and caused trouble. It was inevitable given that vampires were scattered across the globe, most of them loners, the scare few who chose to be Enforcers even more so.

Yuuri didn’t feel like defending any of this to someone whom he’d hopefully not ever see again after this night. Easier to just let her know what she wanted. It wouldn’t hurt him or Viktor in any way.

“We’ll be out of your hair soon enough,” Yuuri told her, looking her in the eyes. “No need for concern, Chandrika-san.”

“So you keep telling me,” she muttered, mouth quirking into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Damn it, Phichit.”

And then she was gone, hand lifting in an offhand wave. Yuuri watched her take long strides until she reached Phichit who swept her into an enthusiastic hug. He kept his eyes and ears on them, but they were either used to living alongside beings with enhanced hearing or they were hyperaware of a vampire’s presence in the room because Chandrika didn’t question Phichit about Yuuri. He didn’t have any interest in their intimate farewells and after a moment, he returned to following Viktor around the room, smiling when he laughed, vibrant in his joy.

In the end though, he returned to Yuuri, blue eyes alight.

Yuuri let himself soften from the rigid stance he’d held all evening to take Viktor into his arms, pressing a fleeting kiss to his temple. Viktor giggled and retaliated with one on Yuuri’s lips, chaste and warm.

“Hi!”

“Hello,” Yuuri breathed, hopelessly smitten.

And Viktor knew it too if the way his grin widened was any indication.

When Viktor stepped out of Yuuri’s arms and to his side, he found more than a few pairs of eyes staring at them, surprise visible in those that Yuuri met before he turned to Viktor, questioning.

“They all thought you were hard and cold,” Viktor told him, voice low but probably not enough to escape the others’ ears. “And no matter what I said otherwise, they wouldn’t believe me.”

Yuuri had made a conscious effort all night not to intrude on Viktor’s conversations. He was regretting that now.

“Vitya…”

“It’s fine now!” Viktor chirped, impossibly cheery. “I couldn’t let such grievous accusations against my beloved stand, could I?”

Yuuri was very, very glad that he hadn’t fed in the last few days. Otherwise, he’d have blushed and irreparably ruined the big, bad vampire impression these wolves apparently had of him. Not that it strictly mattered when he’d never see these people again, but it was the principle of the thing.

“My hero,” Yuuri answered, sarcasm thick in the words. Viktor only beamed, eyes twinkling in that way that said he knew he was being a little shit and enjoying every moment of it. “Let’s leave, shall we, before you feel compelled to prove anything else you may have told them about me?”

Viktor laughed, bright and tinkling, and nodded.

“Yes, I’ve said my goodbyes. Even got some numbers. We’ll leave them to it.”

Yuuri caught Phichit’s eyes across the room. He wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was listening in, nodding at Yuuri with a shit-eating grin that made Yuuri itch to poke him somewhere delicate.

“Alright then. Let’s go.”

Viktor waved to the room as they left. A chorus of _Goodbye, Anthony_ s followed them out, Yuuri’s name sprinkled in among them from more familiar tongues.

“Will you miss them?” Yuuri asked once the door shut behind them.

“Not really,” Viktor replied, linking his arm with Yuuri’s. He came to a stop in the middle of the bookstore. Yuuri watched Viktor’s face as he took in the empty shelves and bare floors, the whole room an unsettlingly naked version of the one they’d grown used to. “Well, maybe a little? It was nice and cozy here. Safe.”

Viktor’s voice had grown quiet, wistful. Yuuri couldn’t do anything but step a little closer in silent reassurance.

Viktor started off into space with a vacant smile for a few more moments. Then he blinked and met Yuuri’s eyes, smile widening, warming.

“But I’m ready to move on.”

Yuuri didn’t question him. He trusted Viktor to know his own heart and share it with Yuuri.

Whether Viktor was ready for the life Yuuri would inevitably drag him into was another conversation entirely, but it was one for a later time.

“Let’s go home, Vitya.”

 

* * *

                                                                                                                                                                    

Dinner at Phichit’s was as lively as always, and Yuuri found himself happy and relaxed in perfect counterpoint to the previous night. The food was cooked together this time, all four of them crammed together in the kitchen and bumping into each other in between tasks. Yuuri was the most useless of the lot, but that was better than being completely useless like he had been before Viktor. Although, it was also true that if not for Viktor, Yuuri wouldn’t have needed to cook at all, and Phichit wouldn’t have invited him to dinner because _no one_ invited a vampire to dinner.

Well, not unless they were willing to offer up a vein.

Yuuri had someone like that, and wasn’t that amazing?

Currently though, his dinner was having dinner, smiling and joking in between bites. Phichit and Celestino were just as boisterous, and even Yuuri, sitting awkwardly beside Viktor while everyone else ate, found it easy to join in the cheer.

It was comfortable here, with people he knew and cared for. He might even miss these occasional dinners or Phichit’s impromptu visits once they went their separate ways. But that was always the case at first. He knew from experience that within a few weeks, he’d become accustomed to the distance, the solitude. Except this time, he wouldn’t be alone. He’d have Viktor.

Maybe he should text Phichit of his own accord this time around. He’d appreciate that.

“Why Thailand?” Yuuri asked when there was a lull in the conversation. It was either that or stare at Viktor chew his food, and while he could honestly say that he preferred the latter, it was a fact well proven that looking at Viktor too long did strange things to Yuuri’s mental faculties, particularly his self-restraint. Already, his cheeks, flushed with laughter, were looking very kissable.

Phichit was the one who answered, his voice threaded with an odd blend of melancholy and enthusiasm.

“I miss home! It’s been so long, you know?”

Yuuri knew Phichit hadn’t returned to his homeland since he’d departed all those decades ago. Bad memories.

“I’m sure some of them are alive,” Phichit said after a pause. He looked thoughtful, grave almost. “Not my parents or siblings. They’re – well. But cousins, maybe. And their kids too probably.” He laughed, a little hollow. “Not that any of them would recognize me.”

Yuuri didn’t know what to say to that so he kept quiet. Viktor was equally silent. It was Celestino who reached over to take Phichit’s hand. Yuuri watched their fingers entangle and grip hard, and felt something tighten within him.

“Look at me, getting all emotional over nothing,” Phichit told them, cheerful again. “Sorry!”

“It’s not nothing,” Viktor said at the same time as Celestino’s, “Darling, _no_.”

It made Phichit laugh into his hand. He met Yuuri’s eyes and winked, mood brightening so fast that it gave Yuuri whiplash.

“Nah, don’t mind me. I’m just excited to go home, with my handsome husband too.”

He waggled his eyebrows at Celestino who…blushed.

Yuuri blinked. Looked again. Yes, still a blush. Faint and rosy but there.

He changed his mind. He did regret this evening. Some sights could not be unseen.

He looked at Viktor instead, but he was staring at the couple on the other side with an expression usually reserved for cute dogs on the street or, on really good days, old pictures of Makkachin.

“What about you, Viktor?” Celestino asked curiously. “I know what the media’s saying but you’ve never mentioned if your people in Russia know what’s happening.”

Yuuri tensed, but Viktor was unruffled. The smile he shot Celestino was only half-fake.

“To be honest, I don’t really know. I don’t have any family. My father’s all I’ve known and he died over a decade ago. Yakov practically raised me, and I hope Lilia has told him what’s going on. There’s really no way to know for sure until I call him.”

None of this was news to Yuuri, least of all Viktor’s constant vacillation on whether or not to call his old coach. He watched Phichit and Celestino closely for their reactions and was relieved when they accepted Viktor’s words with understanding nods.

“Humans are complicated when you’re no longer one of them,” Phichit said sagely.

For a moment, everyone was quiet.

Yuuri slowly placed his hand on Viktor’s thigh, squeezing lightly.

“Phichit,” Viktor finally said. He sounded like he was torn between bemusement and amusement. “I _am_ human.”

Phichit’s eyes widened, horror flashing across his expression.

“Oh my god, Viktor, I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I – you’re always here, and you feel like one of us so – ah fuck, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Viktor replied, smothering a laugh. He shot Yuuri a sly glance through the corner of his eyes. “Maybe Yuuri’s rubbing off one me.”

Phichit, never one to pass up on a double entendre, recovered from his mortification way too quickly.

“Oh, I’m sure he’s rubbing off on you–”

“Phichit, _no_ ,” Yuuri cut in, clutching Viktor’s thigh a little tighter to restrain the urge to reach across the table and strangle his friend.

Celestino was the one to salvage the situation, shoving a forkful of pork into Phichit’s mouth, following it up with another when Phichit wolfed that down.

Yuuri stared for a moment in morbid fascination before tearing his eyes off. Viktor was looking at him, grinning widely.

“A fun last dinner,” he murmured, covering Yuuri’s hand on his thigh with own.

“A little too fun for my tastes,” Yuuri answered, but he was smiling too.

Conversation after that was a little less charged. Celestino kept feeding Phichit little bites off his own plate. Viktor started looking increasingly mournful, shooting wistful glances at Yuuri’s mouth until Yuuri sighed, grabbed Viktor’s plate, and started feeding him.

He resolutely ignored Phichit’s guffaws and the sounds of Celestino cooing at them.

It was worth it anyway to have Viktor light up like a Christmas tree.

After dinner, Viktor and Celestino went to put the finishing touches on dessert. Phichit took the opportunity to grab Yuuri by the arm and drag him into the living room.

“You aren’t going to disappear on me again, are you?” Phichit asked, joking but with a strain of seriousness underneath.

“I couldn’t. You always know where I am these days.”

“Yuuri…”

“Alright, alright. I’ll text. Promise.”

Phichit shook his head, smile forlorn.

“You always say that.”

“We wind up back together somehow, don’t we?”

“I swear that’s recurring a miracle,” Phichit muttered, and before Yuuri could respond, pulled him into a hug that seemed intended to crack his bones. “I’ll miss you. Asshole.”

Yuuri smoothed a hand down Phichit’s back and returned the hug with equal force.

“You too.”

Phichit snorted, disbelieving, but didn’t let go.

“Phichit?”

“Hm?”

“If…at Thailand, if you’re bothered or unhappy or just need to talk, you can call me. I know I won’t be much help, but I’ll be there for you.”

Phichit’s arms tightened even more, driving the air out of Yuuri’s lungs.

“You were always there for me, Yuuri. That’s why I love you.”

Yuuri didn’t believe that. He remembered all too well how hard he’d tried to avoid Phichit’s effusive warmth back when they’d met. But Phichit was kind to a fault even after all these years.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Phichit whispered, pulling back. His eyes were suspiciously shiny. “I hope it lasts.”

Yuuri looked away while Phichit dabbed at his eyes. He could hear Viktor in the kitchen, chatting with Celestino.

“Yeah. Me too.”

 

* * *

 

“Now them, I will miss,” Viktor said, collapsing dramatically onto the bed. The effect was somewhat ruined by how he wearing nothing but his underwear.

“I’m sure they’ll miss you too,” Yuuri told him, joining Viktor on the bed. It was tempting to lay himself atop Viktor’s inviting warmth, but he resisted, intent on having the conversation he’d been putting off until now.

“Won’t you?” Viktor asked, turning to his side and propping his head on one hand.

Yuuri didn’t answer immediately. He played with the ends of Viktor’s hair. The dye was wearing off; it was a strange ash color now. It said something about Viktor that he managed to make it look good.

“I’m used to goodbyes. I’ve never minded them. Never let myself.”

Viktor was silent for a moment, expression thoughtful. A melancholic smile spread across his lips.

“I know what you mean.”

“Will you be sad to leave America?”

Viktor hummed. He sat up, hair whipping in sinuous motions until it settled along his back and chest.

“Not exactly. It’s not like Hasetsu here. There was always this aura of transience, you know? This apartment, the bookstore…none of it felt permanent. Maybe that’s why I wasn’t surprised when you said Phichit was closing the shop. It felt inevitable.”

He was right. Detroit had only ever been temporary. That didn’t mean the future was any less murky.

“Vitya, I – I’m going to have to return to work soon.”

Viktor looked up from where he was staring vacantly at the sheets to meet Yuuri’s eyes. There was a question in his gaze that Yuuri had no choice but to answer.

“It’s been a few years now. That’s not a long time, not for my kind, but I left saying I wouldn’t be gone for much longer than three years. It’s about time to return. There aren’t many of us, but those who choose to become Enforcers are expected to be diligent.”

Viktor had a slight smile on his face. For the life of him, Yuuri couldn’t figure out what that meant. Viktor was kind enough to enlighten him.

“I’m going to see an entirely new side of you now, aren’t I? Is it strange that I’m as nervous as I am excited?”

Yuuri reached across the space between them to take Viktor’s hand. It turned under his grip to press their palms together.

“I’ll always be your Yuuri, Vityenka. You can feel anything you want. You know, don’t you, that you have as much of a say in all of this as I do? This is our life. We need to work it out together.”

Viktor smiled wider, eyes crinkling cutely.

“Of course I do, Yuuri. But for now at least, I’m content to follow you along. Do you remember a promise you made once? You said you’d take me with you, country to country, continent to continent, and show me what you really are. You said you’d drive away my fear if I dared to have any.”

Yuuri remembered. He couldn’t have forgotten if he tried.

The words had been far more innocuous back then. He hadn’t quite grasped their enormity, nor all their implications. He didn’t think Viktor had either. They could have saved themselves a lot of trouble and grief if they had.

“I still want that,” Viktor assured him, interlinking his fingers with Yuuri’s.

“I’m glad.”

Yuuri studied their joined hands. They seemed like a promise of their own, one that he feared would be broken.

He always feared that these days, even when he resolved not to.

Minako had said that he was scared because he cared. He knew that. He’d always known that. It was obvious.

Viktor moved, jolting Yuuri out of his musings. He watched, feeling unreasonably bereft, as Viktor fluffed up a pillow and laid down on the bed. He looked expectantly at Yuuri who looked back, dazed and lost.

“Come on,” Viktor invited, patting his chest.

Yuuri crawled to him gratefully, sinking down on the bed with his head on Viktor’s chest, right above where his heart thumped in steady beats.

After several long minutes, Viktor spoke.

“It was kind of fun. The anonymity, I mean. I could be a whole new person. Or I could be myself without censure. Anthony Okukawa had no connection to Viktor Nikiforov after all. I think I might like trying that out again in different places. Do you know where we’re going yet?”

“Not really. Where do you want to go? Our main options at the moment are England, Dubai, and Lithuania.”

“Uh, I don’t know? England, maybe. How is that arranged?”

“Online, believe it or not. The council was quick to take advantage of all the advanced technology.”

He felt Viktor’s chest rumble before he heard him snort.

“That’s surprisingly mundane. I was imagining hooded cloaks and throne rooms.”

“I keep saying you read too many vampire books. It’s all bullshit.”

“Entertaining bullshit.”

Yuuri couldn’t argue against that. He read his own share of riveting trash.

Viktor’s fingers traced meaningless patterns on his back. Or at least Yuuri thought it was pointless, right until they were repeated again and again, coalescing into something that was oddly familiar.

“Vitya…is that my name? In _kanji_?”

Viktor was silent. Yuuri shot up, hovering over Viktor who looked up at him with an expression that was halfway between embarrassment and satisfaction.

“Vitya! You’re–”

“Learning. Slowly. I’m better at listening and maybe speaking than in reading or writing. I just…” Viktor blushed, smiling that small smile that said he was very pleased about something. “I wanted to know how to write your name.”

Yuuri kissed him.

His ribs were too small for his heart, bony edges digging painfully in the large, floating thing that grew and grew and kept growing.

Viktor was beaming when Yuuri pulled back, eyes half-lidded.

“I know you’re learning Russian too,” he whispered, raising a hand, trailing the back of it along Yuuri’s cheek.

“Slowly,” Yuuri echoed, breathless. “It’s odd that I’ve never learned it before now. I know some Romance languages and some Asian ones, but none of the Slavic.”

“Now you have a reason to learn.”

“The best reason.”

Yuuri lay back down, facing Viktor this time. Viktor’s hand had slid down to cup the back of his neck, fingers occasionally twisting in the hairs at Yuuri’s nape. It was nice.

Like this, Yuuri felt inescapably confronted with Viktor’s beauty.

It wasn’t just the appearance of him. He was beautiful, every inch of him, but he was stunning inside. This was the man who’d conquered his chosen sport before his twenties and kept his throne until he grew too tired to hold on. The man who’d tried even in darkest hour to keep going but calmly walked into an ocean when he couldn’t. The man who’d let himself live again, casting aside the chains that bound him to seize what made him happy. The man who’d been brave enough to love and be loved in return.

The man who’d chosen Yuuri all those months ago in a small bedroom in a house by the sea and kept choosing him over and over again.

Viktor might, in the end, choose death over Yuuri. The future was undecided. All Yuuri knew was that what life he had, he wanted to spend with Viktor, and he wanted Viktor to be happy for all of it.

“Vitya?”

Viktor’s eyes fluttered open. The first hint of sleep made itself known in the droop of his lids.

“Are you happy?”

“Oh, love. Of course I am. I have you.”

“Am I enough?”

“More than.”

“I love you, you know.”

Viktor smiled, scooting closer to Yuuri. Their foreheads pressed gently together.

“As I love you, my Yuuri.”

Yuuri closed his eyes, taking a shuddery breath. When he opened them, Viktor was still looking at him, blue eyes bright and kind.

 

* * *

 

Preparing to leave Detroit didn’t sting the way it had in Hasetsu.

It was simple enough for Yuuri to make arrangements. They had a system in place and with Minako in the council, it was easier than ever to be reinstated. He still had a few weeks before he was expected back at work, starting in England like Viktor had suggested, but that was fine. It wasn’t like anything was boring with Viktor around. They alternated between lounging around at home and taking long drives to other states, almost like a pair of tourists.

Most importantly, Viktor seemed happy. There was none of the melancholy that had plagued him during their last days in Hasetsu. He smiled and laughed brightly, genuinely, even when seeing Phichit and Celestino off at the airport.

Yuuri couldn’t quite relax, not when the fears that nagged at him grew stronger every day. Minako’s visit had helped quiet his mind a little, but not enough. That wasn’t fair though. Nothing would be enough for this. Yuuri was resigned to that. And he tried his best not to let it mar his happiness with Viktor and for the most part, he succeeded.

He had to wonder sometimes if this was how humans always felt. So full of…feeling.

It was uncomfortable, unsettling. Yet, he couldn’t even renounce it entirely because the most prominent of those full, suffocating emotions was love for Viktor, and that was the most blessed thing Yuuri had ever felt.

He wondered if Viktor knew that. Probably. But he felt like he had to say it anyway.

There were many things he wanted to say but didn’t know how.

And ultimately, it was Viktor himself who paved the way for their release.

“It’s almost our anniversary,” Viktor said, eyes still on the stars.

They were lying on a grassy slope, their car parked on the road a little ways off. They’d been on the way back to their place when Viktor suggested stopping to stargaze. As far as his strange whims went, this one was fairly tame. And Yuuri was easy for Viktor anyway.

It was a good night, not too cold, and the sky was clear, showing a pretty half-crescent with glimmering stars dotting it. Yuuri just ended up watching Viktor more than he watched the stars.

Caught up in the way Viktor’s smile shone in the scant moonlight, it took Yuuri a while to register his words.

“Oh. You’re right.”

Viktor huffed, turning on his side to glare at Yuuri.

“Yuuuuri, don’t tell me you forgot!”

“No! I just…didn’t think about it before.”

Viktor narrowed his eyes, unimpressed.

“I promise I didn’t forget,” Yuuri told him, quiet. “How can I? That night changed my life.”

Viktor softened instantly, lips curving into a precious heart shape.

“Mine too. For the very best.”

Yuuri had to kiss him. He brushed his mouth over each of Viktor’s eyelids, feeling them twitch and flutter under his lips.

“Yes.”

“Mmm. Love you.”

Yuuri closed his eyes, let himself savor the words.

“You know,” Viktor continued, nonchalant as if he hadn’t just struck a grave blow to Yuuri’s heart. “I guess this means we have two anniversaries.”

With great effort, Yuuri made himself breathe and speak.

“Oh?”

“The night you saved me and–”

“–the day I bit you.”

“Well, I was going to call it the day we kissed, but yeah, that works too.”

Yuuri grinned, sheepish.

“Oops?”

Viktor just looked unbearably fond.

“We’ll be in Detroit for the first. But the second’s over a month later.”

“England then. Do you have something planned – no, never mind, of course you do.”

“What kind of a boyfriend do you take me for? It’s pretty simple though. You’re going to buy me dinner and then–”

In a flurry of moment, Viktor was on Yuuri, straddling his stomach and leaning down so their noses brushed. His words fell with soft heat on Yuuri’s mouth.

“Then, I’m going to be a sweet, full course meal for you, my lovely Yuuri.”

What little blood remained in his body seemed torn between rushing to his head and rushing to his dick. He settled for leaning up to peck Viktor on the lips, nipping gently before pulling back.

“I look forward to it,” Yuuri whispered, voice hoarse.

Viktor rolled off him, lying on his back again with his head pillowed on his arms. Yuuri mirrored the position, raising his eyes skyward. He absently traced constellations, mind inevitably wandering off to things left unsaid.

Viktor was warm beside him, each breath a faint rustle that echoed in Yuuri’s heart.

“Vitya?”

“Mm?”

“Will you be okay?”

There was no immediate answer.

Yuuri kept his eyes on the stars, seeing nothing, hearing Viktor’s breathing quicken and then even out.

“I’m okay now,” Viktor said eventually. His hand inched along to lay atop Yuuri’s.

“I’m glad. I’m so glad, but–”

“I know, I know. I don’t think about it, I try very hard not to think about it, but I know. We can’t predict the future, Yuuri. But you know something?”

Yuuri tore his eyes off the sky to look at Viktor. He found him looking back, eyes wide and bright, mouth tilted in a faint smile.

“It’s going to be okay. I’m not alone. You’re with me, helping me. I’m not scared like I used to be.”

Yuuri swallowed harshly, words thick and stuck in his throat.

“I’m kinda useless though? You’ve seen how it is. I just flail about, clueless.”

Viktor laughed, a sound caught between a huff and a snort. It was light, teasing, happy.

“Don’t undersell yourself, Yuuri. You try. You try so hard, even when you’re clueless. And let’s face it, it’s not like I know how to deal with it either. I just believe that we’ll get through anything together. The two of us…”

“Sap,” Yuuri accused with no bite. It was impossible to smother his smile, so he didn’t.

“Your sap,” Viktor countered gamely.

Yuuri _loved_ this man.

The words fell from his lips automatically. Viktor sighed sweetly and rolled so that he was tucked against Yuuri’s side. Yuuri copied the motion, pulling Viktor snug against his front. He pressed a kiss to the center of his hair, right at that nonexistent bald spot Viktor was paranoid about.

“We could be doing this in a bed,” Yuuri grumbled after a few minutes, more to rile Viktor up than from any actual annoyance. “Instead, we’ll be picking grass and ants off our clothes for a year.”

“Aw, where’s your sense of adventure, Yuuri?”

“Give it a few months, Vitya, and you’ll be cursing my sense of adventure.”

“Ah, yes, my brave vampire officer. I can’t wait.”

“You say that now…”

Viktor giggled and snuggled against Yuuri. He wouldn’t admit it out loud but he’d happily scrub at grass stains for the rest of his life in exchange for moments like these.

Silence fell again, sweet and serene.

Viktor’s breaths were slow and even, and his hands on Yuuri slack. Yuuri was starting to think he’d fallen asleep when he spoke.

“There’s something I’m curious about.”

“What is it?”

“Would it make it better or worse…being a vampire?”

Yuuri needed a moment to figure out what Viktor was referring to, and several more to formulate any kind of response. That wasn’t a question he’d ever thought about and, no matter how hard he searched through centuries’ worth of memories for anything that could help, in the end, all he could offer was helpless ignorance.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Viktor said nothing. Yuuri had to continue.

“It’s not… I don’t really know how depression works. Nothing I’ve read tells me there’s any rhyme or rhythm to it, nothing that could help make sense of it.”

At that, Viktor snorted, peeking up from Yuuri’s chest to smirk at him.

“Let me guess, you googled this too.”

Yuuri huffed, indignant.

“I read _books_ , Vitya.”

True, he had started out with internet articles, but those had progressed into books soon enough. He vividly recalled those early days in Detroit, when Viktor was grim and haunted, and Yuuri a clueless wreck sorting through anything he could find on depression.

It hadn’t been a good time, but they’d made it through.

Viktor didn’t look like he was revisiting those days. Instead, he was gaping at Yuuri with stars in his shadowed eyes.

“Yuuri, you…”

“Vitya?”

Viktor shook his head and thrust his face back into Yuuri’s chest. There came some muffled sounds, nearly indecipherable, but Yuuri got the impression that Viktor was telling him to keep going.

“Um, well, okay. Our minds are as different as our bodies so that’d an added element of uncertainty. But, on the whole, I think vampires are as prone to melancholia as humans. We live so long. I…I told you once, didn’t I, that there was a time when I was so bored with life that I wished it would end?” Viktor nodded without looking up, his arms around Yuuri tightening almost protectively. It made him smile and press his lips to Viktor’s hair. “Some succumb. Some don’t. Some hold on until they can’t. Some find a reason to keep going. For a time, being an enforcer kept my mind and body sharp. It was something that challenged me on the regular, and that was more helpful that I could ever have imagined.”

He stopped, breathing slow and unnecessarily deep for several seconds.

“Now, I have you. Each moment of these last four hundred years was worth it just for the chance to meet you, Vitya.”

 _And I can’t go back to being without you_ , he didn’t say.

Maybe Viktor heard it anyway because his eyes were soft and grave when he looked up at Yuuri, reaching up with a warm hand to stroke his face.

“I’m glad,” Viktor murmured, and Yuuri felt his heart squeeze tight. “You give my existence greater meaning than I ever did.”

“Wrong,” Yuuri said when he found his voice. “No, Vitya. You’re worth the world just for existing.”

“You’re biased.

It was a protest but the tone was pleased, bubbling with a smile.

Yuuri didn’t add that countless fans across the world had once revered Viktor – many still did. As they’d established long ago, it wasn’t Viktor that they loved, just a painstakingly crafted image of him. And while Yuuri respected the care and devotion that the Viktor of the past had dedicated to his career, he also knew that Viktor’s perspective on it was different.

“I love you,” Yuuri said instead, “I’m allowed to be biased.”

Viktor smile trembled, tears beading in his eyes. Yuuri kissed them away.

“Hey, don’t cry.”

“I’m _happy_.”

“Oh,” Yuuri breathed, a little wondering even now. “That’s good.”

Viktor chuckled, squirming a little so that he was on eye-level with Yuuri, body a little curled in on himself.

“Makes sense though. It’s oddly reassuring to hear that even immortality isn’t a fix-it.”

“I thought you’d find it distressing.”

“Well, in some ways. In others, no.”

Yuuri didn’t really get it, but this was one topic he was hesitant to pry about, terrified of what he might hear. So he did what he always did and changed the subject.

“There are therapists among Others too, you know. It’s a recent phenomenon. Most of them are shifters, but there are witches and psychics among them too.”

“No vampires?”

Yuuri grimaced.

“Can you imagine that disaster?”

Viktor frowned, thoughtful, and Yuuri could see the exact moment the reality of that scenario registered in his mind because he flinched, lips twisting into a half-amused, half-horrified rictus.

“I did not think that one through.”

“Yes, I figured.”

“Yuuri, can I ask something personal?”

“I – yes, of course. You can ask me anything.”

Viktor bit his lip, gaze flickering away from Yuuri who waited, not even breathing as he watched Viktor chew his mouth raw.

It was a long time before Viktor actually spoke. The moonlight had faded, it’s source swallowed by dark clouds. Yuuri could still easily make out Viktor’s face, but he had to wonder if his own expression being shrouded in darkness was helping Viktor voice whatever was on his mind.

“You told me a long time ago that vampires are made when a human is drained of blood and fed vampire blood.” He paused, swallowing audible. Yuuri softly rubbed circles on his back, hoping it was reassuring. “Does it…hurt?”

Oh. Was that all?

“No, not one bit.”

Viktor jerked a little, eyes widening.

“Really?”

“Yes, really. It’s…you’re more or less dead in those hours. You feel nothing.”

“Oh. That’s – okay, I see.” Then, softer, “I thought it’d hurt.”

Yuuri stroked his hand up Viktor’s clothed back, lightly caressing his neck before reaching to cup his face. Viktor leaned into it, sighing.

“Why did you think that?”

“I don’t really know. I guess it just made sense that it would be unpleasant. It seems like a big deal, becoming something – _someone_ – so different. If it’s painless and the aftermath is an undying supercreature, then I’m surprised that people are lining up to be turned.”

Yuuri tried to stifle a snort at that mental image and failed. It made Viktor smile too.

“That’s a terrifying idea. For starters, humans generally don’t know we exist. That’s the point. Even a single person – like you – knowing is strongly discouraged but allowed provided that the vampire in question takes responsibility. And among those who do, some choose to be turned while some resist. You’re no stranger to the latter.”

Yuuri cringed the moment the last sentence left his lips, glad that Viktor couldn’t see.

He wasn’t bitter or angry. He wasn’t. He was just scared. But Viktor didn’t deserve to be burdened with Yuuri’s expectations.

“Well, yes,” Viktor replied, apparently oblivious to Yuuri’s churning thoughts. “But my reason is rather specific, isn’t it?”

“True. It’s not just physical changes though. The mind changes too. You know this better than most. You’re losing your humanity, not merely as an abstract concept or physical factors, but as something that makes you who you are. Something fundamental, intangible. You change, forever. Humans fear that. It makes sense. And you forget too, eventually. Your human life, the people you loved, the things you did. They all vanish in the end.”

Viktor was quiet and strangely still for a long time. Yuuri’s skin prickled with dread and anticipation both, and his hand remained frozen on Viktor’s cheek.

“Yuuri, if I’m – if you turned me, if I become like you, would I still love you?”

Yuuri’s rumbling thoughts screeched to a halt.

Viktor made a faint, uneasy noise, and Yuuri started, snatching back the hand that had been gripping Viktor’s face too hard.

“Sorry.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. No. Yes. I don’t know, it’s just – I didn’t expect that.”

“Is is really a strange question?”

The clouds must have drifted because suddenly, there was moonlight spilling over them, casting Viktor’s worried face in soft silver. Yuuri couldn’t help but touch him again, smoothing hesitant fingers over furrowed brows to no avail.

“No.” Yuuri closed his eyes, tipping his head forward to rest against Viktor. There was a moment of comfort before he had to pull away. “Not at all. It’s been on my mind too.”

“You never said anything.”

“I told you I was scared.” Yuuri remembered it all too well. A damp winter night, a lonely park, and the moon their silent witness. And something like despair. “We never talked about the details.”

Viktor exhaled through his nose, the sound of it sharp and cutting.

“No, we never did. Maybe we should.”

Hope was a fragile, treacherous thing, as persistent as it was volatile.

Yuuri was helpless to stop it from budding in his chest, but he didn’t let himself believe.

“Why?” he asked. “Have you changed your mind?”

Viktor’s answering smile was bittersweet.

“ _Lapushka_ , I never made up my mind in the first place.”

Yuuri huffed a laugh that rang hollow.

“Yes, I suppose that’s true.”

“It bothers you, doesn’t it? More than you let me see.”

“It’s fine, Vitya.”

“It’s not,” Viktor said, voice rising to an exasperated whisper. “And it’s fine that it’s not, Yuuri.”

Viktor kept telling him that. Yuuri wished it was comforting as he wanted it to be.

“I…” The usual vapid acceptance died on his tongue. Words that he’d never intended to say came out. “I’m terrified of losing you. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Yuuri.”

Viktor drew him close, gently tucking Yuuri under his chin. It was a whole minute before Yuuri could melt into the offered comfort.

“I’m sorry too,” Viktor said. “No, no, don’t say it’s not needed. I know this is cruel to you. And it means so much to me that you’re letting me take my time, make my decision.”

Yuuri screwed his eyes shut, pulling in wet breaths through his nose. His eyes stung with tears that couldn’t even be shed.

“It’s you,” he finally said, voice breaking embarrassingly. “I can’t just – I can’t be selfish. I can’t make you miserable. I can’t–”

“Ssh, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Viktor held him tighter, tangling their legs together. “You’re not any of those things. I know you, Yuuri. I have no illusions that you’re a perfect angel, but you’re perfect for _me_. You’re so, so good to me. Don’t undermine that.”

Yuuri said nothing, clutching at Viktor.

“Yuuri?”

“Mm.”

“I would still love you.”

Yuuri reluctantly pulled back, peering up at Viktor. He met Yuuri’s gaze with fire in his eyes, determination etched into the sculpted lines of his face.

“Even if I’m a vampire and so changed that I don’t recognize myself in the mirror, I’d still love you. Always.”

“You–” _can’t know that_.

But Yuuri couldn’t say that, not when Viktor’s steely stare implored him to believe in him. He felt his doubts crumple, conviction rearing up in its place.

“You will. And if you don’t, I’ll make you fall in love with me all over again. I promise, Vitya.”

Viktor smiled, happy, tired.

“Good,” he said quietly. “I wouldn’t mind losing my humanity if I can just keep loving you.”

Yuuri leaned up and kissed him, just resting his mouth against Viktor’s to bask in the soothing warmth of him.

Viktor broke it a moment later, peppering kisses all over Yuuri’s cheeks as if in apology.

“I’m not guaranteeing anything,” Viktor told him, mouth an inch away from Yuuri’s ear. “I wish I could, but–”

Yuuri only nodded and slid his hand into Viktor’s hair, rubbing his scalp in silent support.

“I know.”

He did. And he wouldn’t lie to himself that it was okay. Yuuri was greedy and selfish, a quintessential vampire. He wanted all of Viktor, for all time.

But this was a partnership. This was love. Compromise was part of it.

He could wait, treasuring every second with Viktor as he did.

“We’ll figure it out, Vitya.”

Viktor kissed his forehead and buried his face against Yuuri’s shoulder. He closed his eyes and held on tight.

That lone ember of hope burned on.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter's gonna be an actual monster (20,000 words) and the thought of editing is already making me regret many life decisions.


	20. i'll fill the graveyards until i have you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot can happen in a year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex-specific tags: Public Sex. 
> 
> So, this chapter is a bit fucked up. Everything until “Hyderabad, India” is mostly safe. After that, there is a scene that kind of warrants the non-consensual blood-drinking tag. I say ‘kind of’ because Yuuri has a standing permission to feed on Viktor whenever, but as this scene will make it obvious, the spirit of that permission is very clearly violated here. As for whether Viktor’s reaction to the whole mess makes it better or more fucked up, well, I’d say that’s up to you.
> 
> There is also a discussion about Makkachin and her death in the second scene.

**April 11, 2019**

**Detroit, United States of America**

 

It had been a good day.

Viktor had woken up to Yuuri’s mouth on his cock and his fingers in his ass, crimson eyes heated and smug as they peered up at Viktor. It was far later, with both of them sated and spent, that Yuuri had kissed his cheek and wished him a happy anniversary.

It wasn’t that Viktor had forgotten, but frankly, it was hard to even remember his own name when Yuuri was making love to him.

The rest of the day had been just as amazing. Viktor had made plans, and while he may have had doubts on whether Yuuri would appreciate being dragged to an amusement park, they proved unnecessary when Yuuri laughed and shouted with enough vigor to match Viktor. Dinner dates, Yuuri’s most typical choice, were nice and romantic, but they were unfair too when Yuuri could only watch Viktor eat and not taste a thing himself. Yuuri kept insisting that he liked watching Viktor and honestly, so did Viktor, but he also wanted Yuuri to have fun.

Thus the amusement park. It had been amazing and had left him exhausted, and he’d have liked nothing more than to collapse into bed, curl around Yuuri, and go to sleep.

But it seemed that Lilia, of all people, had different ideas.

“Vitya?” Yuuri called from the bathroom doorway, clad in nothing but a towel.

At any other time, the sight would have been distracting. Now, Viktor was more concerned deciding whether or not to click replay on the video.

His silence, or maybe his expression, must have given him away because Yuuri was beside him in a second, settling down on the bed beside him. His skin warmer than usual from the shower, but Viktor still shivered when it pressed against him.

“Lilia sent me a link,” he said, wrenching his eyes away from the screen to give Yuuri a strained smile. “It’s Yura.”

Yuuri blinked, frowning slightly. His eyes never left Viktor’s face, studying him intensely. Viktor didn’t know what he read there, his emotions were a mess at the moment, but whatever it was made Yuuri shed his towel and climb into the bed, putting an arm around Viktor to hold him gently.

Muscles Viktor hadn’t even known he’d tensed relaxed at the touch.

He replayed the video.

It was Yuri in the familiar backdrop of their once-shared rink in Saint Petersburg, sporting his perpetual scowl. No, that wasn’t quite fair. He’d evolved to keeping his face stony; intimidating still, but not outright hostile. Viktor probably had a part to play in the resurgence of his anger.

The reporters surrounding Yuri were also just as likely the cause.

The questions were in Russian but there were English subtitles. Viktor tuned them out, sneaking a glance at Yuuri whose frown had darkened. Viktor turned back to the video just in time for Yuri’s response.

“Viktor Nikiforov is dead,” he seethed through gritted teeth. “The skater he was is dead. Don’t fucking ask me about him.”

There was yelling from the gathered group, but Yuri paid them no mind as he stormed inside the rink. No one was foolish enough to try and follow him.

“It’s going to be a PR disaster,” Viktor said into the sudden silence, his tongue loosened by Yuuri’s presence. “He should know better by now.”

“It would take another six years before they can declare you dead,” Yuuri replied, displeasure evident on his face as he stared at the screen. “Why would Yuri say that?”

Indeed, that seemed to be the question filling the comments.

Many agreed with Yuri, their words accompanied by expressions of grief that failed to touch Viktor’s heart. He loved his fans, or had loved them, but he’d also given them all that he was capable of.

A few, probably trolls, suggested that Yuri had murdered Viktor. Those were quickly shot down.

The rest just echoed Yuuri’s sentiment, except more verbosely.

Viktor had stopped reading after one page and returned to the video.

“Vitya?”

Oh, right, Yuuri had asked him a question.

“Yuri doesn’t really think things through when he’s angry. And I can only imagine that he’s furious with me. Easier than grieving. And who knows, maybe he remembers something of my betrayal.”

The word tasted bitter in his mouth. Yuri’s horrified green eyes flashed in his mind, accusing.

Viktor deserved it.

“He won’t remember the events,” Yuuri told him, taking the phone from Viktor to set it down on his lap. “But he might have retained some of his emotions from then. Anger at us included. Fear too, probably.”

“You’re not helping,” Viktor said, trying for nonchalance and falling short miserably.

Yuuri, to his credit, didn’t try to mollify him with empty platitudes. He just kissed Viktor’s temple and held him tighter.

“Why would Lilia send you this?”

“A reminder, probably. She helped us, sure, but I don’t think for a moment that she’s happy with me.” Viktor chuckled, the sound scraping his throat. “I should tell her that I don’t need to remind her that I’m being cruel.”

“No,” Yuuri disagreed as Viktor had known he would. “It’s not cruelty.”

“Selfishness then.”

“And what’s wrong with that? You’re allowed to live for yourself.”

“No fair, Yuuri, I want to live for you too.”

That caught Yuuri by surprise, and he smiled for a moment before catching on to Viktor’s deflection. His eyes narrowed.

“Viktor Niki–”

“Nooo!” Viktor wailed, collapsing dramatically on Yuuri’s chest. “Not the name!”

Yuuri’s fingers carded through his hair, their grip firm and comforting. Viktor wanted to burrow into him and hide.

“Vitya,” Yuuri called, soft and coaxing. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

Using pet names wasn’t fair either. Viktor couldn’t deny Yuuri when he was this sweet, and Yuuri knew it.

Then again, smashing his nose to Yuuri’s nipple wasn’t exactly doing a great job of numbing his mind either.

“It’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Viktor asked, sliding down until he was in Yuuri’s lap. He turned over to look at him. Yuuri kept one hand in Viktor’s hair, the other coming to rest over his heart. “Yuri thinking that I’m dead should sway public opinion. My rinkmate-turned-student. Only Yakov’s opinion would be seen as more valuable, and last I checked, he’s sticking to generic responses.”

“You’ve been keeping track of them, hm.”

He couldn’t see if Yuuri was displeased by that. His possessiveness of Viktor worked in strange ways, but the one unchanging factor was his hostility to the people Viktor had left behind.

Yuuri should never meet Chris. That would be such a disaster.

It was also a non-issue. Viktor was never going to see Chris again. Their friendship had been easy, but shallow, circumstances and competition conspiring to keep any real connection from forming. But Chris cared. The hundreds of texts that had blown up Viktor’s old number said as much. Ultimately, he would just have to be another person who would never receive answers. Like Georgi, Mila…Yuri.

Yakov was another case entirely.

“You don’t sound like you think it’s a good thing,” Yuuri said after some time. Viktor blinked out of his thoughts and found Yuuri staring at him with furrowed brows.

“No, I do. I do. I want them to let me go.”

“But?”

“It feels unfinished. Like running away.”

Yuuri, maybe kindly, didn’t tell Viktor what he already knew. That he was running away.

“Do you want to see any of them?” Yuuri asked instead. “Say farewell in person. Explain, maybe.”

Viktor laughed and rose from Yuuri’s lap. Something dug into his ass and he fished out his phone, tangled between the sheets amidst all of his squirming. He finally closed the video and Lilia’s message, not bothering to respond. She probably only needed to know that he saw the damn thing.

“Who’s there to see?” Viktor asked, fiddling with the phone, opening and closing random apps. “Yuri? You can imagine how that would go. We did not flee Hasetsu to repeat our mistakes. My other rinkmates are no better. We weren’t as close either. And Yakov–”

Viktor stopped, out of words.

Yakov was complicated. He didn’t really know what to do.

The keypad was open on his phone. His fingers itched to tap in a familiar number.

Yuuri’s stare burned into the side of his head. Viktor turned to meet his eyes and found them curious, waiting.

“Yakov is…”

“Wouldn’t he be a safe option? He knows already, doesn’t he, that you’re with me?”

Well, yes. Minako had confirmed as much before she left. It wasn’t that simple though.

“I don’t want to go _see_ Yakov. He’d have my head.”

“I would never let him,” Yuuri assured, comically missing the point. It made Viktor smile anyway.

“Yes, my brave hero, I know. I also appreciate that you’re making an effort not to show how much you loathe the idea of me going back to them.”

Yuuri was cute when he was flustered, and he certainly was now, but his embarrassed smile only confirmed Viktor’s words. It was probably sheer insanity on Viktor’s part that he adored how Yuuri did not try much to hide his desire to have Viktor all for himself.

This was the man who’d once casually confessed to wanting to keep Viktor locked up. It had been endearing then, and it remained so.

Viktor wanted to be kept.

The confession was out of his mouth before he even thought about it.

“Vitya!” Yuuri’s eyes were wide. Red flickered in them, gone in a second.

“It’s true. And it’s not like you’re some creep who’s keeping me prisoner. I’m as free as I’ve always been. And well, it’s not like I’ll ever want to be free of you so that doesn’t really matter.”

Yuuri’s expression softened into something fond and immeasurably tender.

“You’re so strange, Vitya.” Yuuri spoke as if it were a revelation, but his voice was tinged with reverence. “And so, so perfect.”

Viktor smiled through the heat flooding his face and clutched his phone tighter. Yuuri reached over to tuck his hair behind his ear, the touch lingering sweetly. Viktor quickly kissed the tip of a finger as it withdrew.

“I’m content staying with you. I don’t need to see them for goodbyes. But…Yakov, maybe I can call him.”

Yuuri tilted his head to the side, looking oddly innocent and adorable.

“Yes, sure. Have you been considering it long?”

Viktor grimaced and raised his phone.

“For all of five minutes actually. You know me. Impulsive.”

Yuuri said nothing. He looked at Viktor like he knew he had more to say. Yuuri always could read him so well.

“I – at Hasetsu, I had this distant idea that one day, I’d sort out the mess I’d made. Get a clean break. After we left, after Lilia got me declared missing, I didn’t think on it much. To be honest, I avoided thinking about it. And even now, I don’t think, I mean, I wouldn’t exactly mind if the two of us just rode off into the sunset and left everyone in the dark… I want to be selfish. But I don’t know if I’d regret that. There’s really no way I can know, but now, I’m thinking that I would be less likely to regret it if I just call Yakov and talk to him. Tell him – something. Don’t know what yet.”

He ended his rambling with an awkward, humorless chuckle. Yuuri was nodding along though, as if everything Viktor had said made perfect sense.

“I get it, I think. Is it all because of that video?”

Viktor shrugged. Yuri’s voice rang in his head, proclaiming him dead.

“I guess? It got me thinking. There’s more to it though. We’re leaving for England in two days. It’s another fresh start in a way. I want to tie up some loose ends.”

“Okay. Makes sense. When are you going to call him?”

“…Now?”

Yuuri smiled, amused.

“Why are you asking me?”

“I’m not really sure if it’s a good idea.”

Yuuri reached over to take Viktor’s hands in his, phone and all.

“Sometimes, Vitya, you have to take a leap of faith. I’m the last person who should be telling you this. You know how I get. But it’s what I did with you, and what you did with me, and it was _worth_ everything.”

“Ours were really leaps of insanity, not faith.”

Yuuri ducked his head, smiling.

“Eh, same thing in the end.

Yuuri’s mind must be a truly wonderful place.

“Okay. I’m going to do it.”

Yuuri nodded, serious now.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” Viktor’s vehemence had them both flinching. “Sorry. No. Actually, I want you to stay.”

“Oh,” Yuuri breathed. He squeezed Viktor’s hands. “Of course, Vitya.”

He beamed.

“Let me just put on some clothes first. I don’t really want to talk to Yakov naked.”

Yuuri sputtered out a laugh, doubling in on himself for a solid minute before he copied Viktor, pulling on sweatpants. Viktor stuck to a cozy pair of Yuuri’s boxers and a tank top. Yanking on the two didn’t take much time though and all too soon, it was time to make good on his words.

His phone glared at him from the bed, sleek and pretty and daunting. Yuuri came up behind him, hand cool and soothing on Viktor’s back.

“Okay. We’re doing this.”

It was Yuuri who got into bed and settled against the headboard, pulling Viktor between his legs and loosely wrapping his arms around his waist. Viktor melted into the hold. Yuuri made him feel safe and secure. The sharp teeth hidden by petal pink lips and the array of discolored bruises decorating Viktor’s skin told a different story, but there was comfort in that restrained violence.

He called Yakov. He wasn’t worried about time. It was nearly midnight here, so it’d be morning in Russia, and Yakov was an early riser. And sure enough, he picked up after just a few rings.

Viktor let out a shuddering breath as a gruff voice he hadn’t heard in person for over a year snapped a curt greeting.

“Yakov. Yakov, it’s me.”

There was silence on the other end.

He waited. A beat. Then two. Yuuri’s palms were pressed to his belly, firm and grounding.

“It’s Vik–”

“I’d know you voice anywhere, you idiot boy.”

Oh.

He wouldn’t say he’d missed being scolded in Russian.

Something thick and wet clogged his throat. He swallowed convulsively, needing a moment before he could speak.

“You never know. It’s been a while.”

That was clearly the wrong thing to say.

Yakov broke into a tirade of curses that had Viktor’s ears ringing. Even Yuuri made a low noise from behind him because of course he’d learned Russian swears but not endearments. Typical.

“Wow,” Viktor murmured when Yakov was finished insulting everything from his feet to his dead ancestors. “Is that that where Yura got it from?”

“You – don’t mess with me, you entitled brat. It’s been months. _It’s been a year_. You think you can just call and act like everything’s normal?”

His smile withered. Viktor leaned a little more into Yuuri, probably putting more pressure on him than was comfortable, but Yuuri allowed it with a faint tightening of his embrace.

“No. No, of course, I don’t think that.”

There was silence on the other end. He could hear Yakov breathing, heavy and angry.

Really, what had Viktor been expecting?

“I just wanted to…” What had he wanted exactly? To give closure? Say goodbye?

Apologize?

He took a fortifying breath, sliding the hand not holding his phone to grip one of Yuuri’s. Yuuri gripped back, linking his fingers with Viktor’s in sweet reassurance.

“I’m sorry I took off like that. I don’t know what you know or how much you know, but I’m assuming Lilia told you enough to know that I’m safe.”

“I know nothing about your safety,” Yakov said before Viktor could say the rest. “She only told me you were happy.”

Viktor smiled in spite of himself.

“I am. Happier than I imagined I could be.”

More silence. Viktor was about to finish what he had to say when Yakov spoke up.

“You’re a fool, Vitya. Running away, not calling, disappearing somewhere with some man. If Lilia hadn’t stopped me, I’d have–”

“Come after me? Don’t be silly, Yakov. You have other obligations now, other students. You can’t be wasting time on old news like me.”

“ _Viktor_. Time spent on you was never a waste.”

He wanted to crack a joke, like how that wasn’t what Yakov used to say. But the words wouldn’t come.

“I know. All the same, you have better things to do than find someone who doesn’t want to be found.”

“Is that it then? You’re never coming back?”

In a way, he’d have been more at ease if Yakov was yelling at him; screaming, shouting, calling him a hopeless idiot. This Yakov, quiet and somber and sounding every bit his age, was infinitely more unsettling.

But Viktor’s answer remained the same.

“You heard Yura, Yakov. Viktor Nikiforov is dead.”

“Yura’s as much of a fool as you. I don’t know what happened in Japan, and Lilia won’t tell me, but you owe me an explanation, Vitya.”

“I – I can’t.”

Viktor held his breath, crushing Yuuri’s hand in his.

“Did your vampire do something to Yura?”

Exhale. Inhale. Speak.

“He was only protecting me. And I didn’t stop him. I’m the one to blame.”

“Yura was your student, Vitya.”

Ah, there it was, that spark of anger. Real anger, not the bluster Yakov often directed at his students.

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

Yakov snorted, almost mocking. Fair enough. It wasn’t like Viktor was expecting forgiveness.

“I didn’t call to – to make things right, Yakov. I just wanted to let you know I was alive. And happy.”

“Vitya, are you saying goodbye?”

“Yes.”

“For God’s sake, why? This is still your home, Vitya.”

This, Viktor could answer easily, even if it was with strange emotions choking him.

“No, Yakov. I found my home. It’s not Russia, it’s not a place at all.”

“Your vampire then. I’m warning you, nothing good will come off that. They’re not like us.”

Those were lofty words for a man who still shot longing glances at a woman who’d left him. But that was a can of worms Viktor had no intention to open. Besides, there was a difference in their situations.

Yuuri would never leave him. Yuuri would never purposefully hurt him either. But there was one thing that Viktor hadn’t changed his mind on since he first conceived the idea. Death in Yuuri’s hand, under his teeth, would be the best way to go. Whether that death would be final or not was not something Viktor had decided.

Eternity wasn’t as daunting as it used to be.

“It’s fine. I trust him, and I know what I’m doing.”

“Vit–”

“Goodbye, Yakov. Maybe I’ll see you again.”

He hung up.

The phone fell to the bed. Not even a second had passed before it started ringing, an unlisted but familiar number flashing on the screen. Viktor stared at it without moving.

After several rings, Yuuri reached over and rejected the call.

“Well,” Viktor said, tone odd even to himself. “That was a disaster.”

There was a light pressure against the back of his head; Yuuri’s lips, attempting comfort.

“I caught some of it,” Yuuri told him, mouth now at Viktor’s ear. “A conversation like this wasn’t ever going to be pleasant, Vitya.”

“Go away with your logic.”

Yuuri chuckled, cool breath tickling Viktor’s ear.

“Do you regret it?”

He took his time answering.

“No. Not really. I didn’t achieve much, but I expected that. Actions have consequences, but these are worth it.” He turned his head to the side. Yuuri was right there, mouth soft under Viktor’s. “Mm. You’re worth it.”

Viktor didn’t need to see Yuuri to know that he was pleased.

The phone rang again. This time, Viktor was the one to grab it from Yuuri’s hand and press the little red icon.

“You sure about that, Vitya?”

“I don’t think we have anything left to say. He can yell all he wants, but what’s the point? I’m not changing my mind, and I’m not going back. And I can’t explain to him why I did what I did. Telling you was hard enough.”

“I understand. Think he’ll keep calling?”

“Probably not. Yakov knows when to stop.”

Or so he hoped. Worst case scenario, he could block the number.

“Yuuri, I’m tired.”

“Of course you are. It’s been a long day. Sleep.”

Viktor slumped back into Yuuri who accommodated him easily, leaning back to let Viktor lie on his chest.

“Can I? Like this?”

“Why would you need to ask?” Yuuri’s hand smoothed over his forehead, cool and blissful. “Sleep tight, Vitya.”

Viktor did, held close in tender arms.

 

 

**May 15, 2019**

**Manchester, England**

 

“This is so _good_ ,” Viktor moaned around a mouthful of chicken. “Yuuri, I wish you could – Yuuri?”

It was far from unusual for Yuuri to stare at him while he ate. But this was the kind of look he gave Viktor usually a few seconds before his clothes got ripped off.

He swallowed his food, mouth suddenly dry.

“Yuuri, why are you looking at me like that?”

Yuuri cocked his head. Sometimes, he looked adorable doing that. Now, he just looked predatory.

“Like what?”

“Like you want to eat me whole.”

Yuuri’s smile was slow and silky and went straight to Viktor’s dick.

“I do want to eat you whole.”

Try as he might, he couldn’t hold back a whimper.

It was a good thing that they had reservations and a private booth. No neighbors or staff to scandalize this way. God knew that they’d done enough of that.

“This is why I don’t want to eat out with you, Yuuri,” Viktor accused, the words empty of any sting. “You’re distracting.”

“I’m distracting?” Yuuri shot back, arching an eyebrow. “You’re the one making porn sounds into chicken. Should I be jealous?”

“Oh, trust me, I’d be much louder with your cock in my mouth.”

Yuuri was the one who stiffened this time, red flashing in his eyes. Viktor had never claimed to be innocent in the ruining of his own dinner.

“Later,” Yuuri said, teeth gritted. “Food first.”

“Ohh yes. For us both.”

Viktor laughed as Yuuri hid his face in his arms, muffling a groan.

It was true though. After all, it would be unfair if Viktor was the only one who got a treat on their proper anniversary. He’d coaxed Yuuri into stretching his feeding by a couple of days just for this occasion. Yuuri knew it too, and it showed in the way his eyes would zero in on Viktor’s neck all through the day, hot and hungry.

Maybe it was cruel of them both to schedule a date this late in the evening, but this patience would be rewarded. Besides, it was nice to go out like this again.

Oddly enough, this was their first date in England, even though they’d moved here a month ago.

Viktor hadn’t had any solid expectations about Yuuri’s work. Going from place to place keeping an eye on disobedient vampires had been an interesting concept, but also a vague one. How did anyone just go about looking after people scattered all across the world?

Apparently, the answer was online directories and nightly patrols.

Viktor didn’t appreciate having to sleep without Yuuri beside him, watching him. But it was inevitable too. At least they were together all through the day, settling into sweet domesticity. Viktor hadn’t looked for a job here since they’d only be staying a few months. He’d taken up blogging instead, an eclectic mixture of books and movies and random food for thought. It was surprisingly popular, and he was free to say whatever he wanted without censure behind the faceless ‘Anton. E.’

No, he was never going to let Yuuri live that down.

He was happy. Even Yuuri had stopped fretting about whether Viktor was comfortable in their small, cozy flat.

Cool fingers brushed the back of his hand, prompting Viktor to look up at Yuuri. An arched brow greeted him, a question written in the slant of Yuuri’s lips.

“Just thinking,” he said with a wink.

“Your chicken will feel neglected.”

“Oh, god forbid.”

Indeed, it would be cruel of him to neglect good food.

He still ate a little faster, anticipation curling in his guts. Yuuri hadn’t been the only one who’d been denied.

In spite of the eagerness they both clearly shared, they didn’t make any effort to return as fast as possible. Walking some of the way home was Yuuri’s idea, not that Viktor was in any way opposed to it. Yuuri had taken the night off for him; they’d have to make the best of it.

“I miss this,” Viktor confessed, grimacing when a car zoomed past him. “Well, not all the noise, but going out with you at night was fun.”

“I miss it too,” Yuuri replied softly. His thumb rubbed Viktor’s wrist distractingly.  

“The evening strolls are worth it though. Have I ever told you that I used to go out with Makka in the evening?”

Yuuri shook his head, eyes a little wide even though he tried to hide his surprise. It was understandable. Viktor rarely broached this topic. He had good reason. She was still an open sore in his heart, and he would miss her for as long as he lived. It wasn’t the kind of bond you could just forget, not that he wanted to forget it. For all that it hurt now, the good times she’d shared with him were meant to be treasured.

He liked to think that she’d be happy to see him the way he was now; free and joyful with a wonderful man by his side.

Viktor swallowed past the lump in his throat. His voice still wavered when he talked.

“It was relaxing and fun. I couldn’t pay as much attention to her as I wanted to because I was so busy. But whenever I was home, I’d make sure to take her for a walk in the evening. Now that I think about it, it was good for me too. Sometimes, we’d be out really late and there wouldn’t be anyone in the streets. It was nice. Peaceful, you know. Just me and my dog and my city. Towards the end, she – she couldn’t really make it. So I’d just sit with her, and stroke her fur, and that – that was good too.”

He tried to blink away tears before they could slide down his face. He failed, mostly. Yuuri said nothing, but Viktor could feel his eyes on him, steady and without judgment as Viktor composed himself.

“Were you with her at the end?” Yuuri asked after a while.

Viktor nodded, a little too fast.

“ _Da_. Yes. She was – I was right there, with her head in my lap. She pass – it was peaceful.”

Devastating. The end of the world, it had felt like. But that was for Viktor.

Makkachin, even half-blind, had looked at him with nothing but love even at the end, tail wagging weakly.

“She was lucky to have you,” Yuuri murmured, raising their entangled hands to press a kiss to Viktor’s knuckles. “To be loved by you.”

“ _I_ was the lucky one,” Viktor corrected, smiling through his tears. “She was amazing. The best friend a man could have.”

Yuuri smiled at him, mouth half-hidden under their hands. The sight birthed an image in Viktor’s mind that had him aching and warming at the same time.

“I think she’d have loved you.”

Yuuri hummed, considering.

“Animals tend to be wary of us. But she’s yours, so she could have been an exception.”

“Of course she would have been! My Makka was special.”

“Just like her human,” Yuuri said, nonchalant as if he hadn’t sent a lightning bolt straight to Viktor’s heart with a handful of words.

Viktor was the one to tug their hands towards his mouth and press a kiss to Yuuri’s, resting his forehead on it afterward. Yuuri stepped closer, wrapping his free arm around Viktor in a loose hug.

“ _Ya tebya lyublyu_.”

Yuuri’s answer was a gentle, lingering kiss to the top of his head.

 

* * *

 

They made it home eventually, hailing a taxi for the last stretch of the journey.

They cuddled together in the backseat, Viktor chattering with the driver about the weather while Yuuri listened in amused silence. Viktor didn’t even need to look at him to know that he’d have that indulgent expression on his face, the one that said Viktor was entertaining and slightly weird and that Yuuri adored him anyway.

He still looked because he could never really not look at Yuuri.

“Tonight was fun,” he declared once they were at their flat, hanging over Yuuri while the latter tried to maneuver around Viktor and unlock the door.

“You cried though.”

“You like it when I cry.”

“No, not like this. You were sad.”

Viktor sighed, pressing his face to Yuuri’s nape to leech off his coolness.

“Some things are worth being sad for, don’t you think?” he said, pulling back and following Yuuri inside.

Yuuri turned to face him, pretty brown eyes alight with something indefinable.

“Yes. I do.”

Viktor stepped closer, reaching up to take Yuuri’s face in his hands.

“Happy anniversary, my Yuuri.”

Yuuri closed his eyes, tilting his face for a kiss that Viktor was all to glad to deliver. There was the familiar tightness in his chest, like his heart was too big and writhing to be set free.

It probably wanted to go to Yuuri, burrow inside him and never leave.

“Love you,” Yuuri whispered when they parted. “I’m so glad you’re with me.”

“Where else would I be?”

Yuuri smiled, didn’t answer.

They never quite stopped kissing on their way to the bedroom. Yuuri was unerringly precise in his movements as he walked backward, and Viktor was only too happy to follow along, chasing Yuuri’s mouth every time it slipped out of his reach. They giggled when a miscalculation almost sent Viktor crashing into the wall. But strong arms caught and held him safe, and Viktor was only too happy to mold his body against Yuuri’s until there wasn’t an inch between them.

Yuuri was the one to push them apart, but Viktor’s protest died in his throat when Yuuri followed up the movement by unbuttoning his shirt in rapid flicks of clever fingers. Viktor stared, enchanted, and only once Yuuri was down to his boxer-briefs did he remember to follow suit.

He was slower, clumsier, rightfully distracted by the sight of Yuuri splayed on their bed, arms folded under his head while his eyes followed each of Viktor’s movements with heady intent.

It was times like these that reminded Viktor that there was a time when he was considered smooth in bed, and that he didn’t miss it one bit. Being a fool for his Yuuri was so much better.

“Come here,” Yuuri said once Viktor was bare, extending a hand that Viktor seized. He was pulled down without ceremony, Yuuri’s body cushioning his fall. “Hello, Vitya.”

He laughed, brushing Yuuri’s nose with his own.

“Hi.”

Yuuri kissed him, stealing what little breath remained in Viktor’s lungs. His sense fared no better, all thought fleeing as he was reduced to the sensation Yuuri’s tongue mapping out his mouth.

“You’re cold,” Viktor said as Yuuri chose to shift his assault to his neck. “You must be hungry.”

“I am,” Yuuri answered, nosing at Viktor’s pulse. Viktor didn’t know if he was preparing to feed or just tormenting himself. One could never say with Yuuri. “But it can wait.”

The latter then.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Viktor promised, rising off Yuuri just enough to reach under a pillow and unearth a half-used bottle of lube.

“Oh,” Yuuri breathed, eyes flashing red. “I believe you.”

And then he didn’t say much at all, only the sweetest sighs and filthiest moans falling from his lips as Viktor worked him with a burning need of his own.

He nipped his way down Yuuri’s torso, making marks that faded as soon as they were formed. The effect of his ministrations on Yuuri’s cock didn’t vanish though, and it was hard and thick when Viktor nuzzled against it, pressing light kisses all along his length. It wasn’t quite as cool as the rest of Yuuri, not that it made much of a difference. Viktor had to wonder if Yuuri would feel less searingly cold if Viktor’s own temperature matched his.

It didn’t really matter. Viktor would love all of him, always.

He was set on proving as much.

Yuuri opened up for him nice and easy, taking Viktor’s lubed fingers with a shuddering gasp and clenched hands. Viktor pressed kisses to Yuuri’s thighs, sucking at the flesh as he moved his finger slowly, tugging at the rim to hear Yuuri choke on a moan. A second and a third followed in due time, long past Yuuri’s muffled curses and Viktor’s own impatience demanded that he get on with it.

He wanted to take his time tonight. He wanted to love Yuuri gently, sweetly.

“Yuuri,” he whispered, pressing inside while Yuuri squirmed under him. “Yuuri, god, I adore you.”

Arms twined around his neck, strong like steel while they yanked him down. Yuuri’s legs wrapped around him in the same movement, pushing Viktor deep into him in one, quick thrust.

His high-pitched cry was swallowed by Yuuri’s mouth.

“Y-you too, Vitya. You feel so good.”

Viktor, with arms braced on their side of Yuuri and losing his mind to the slow rocking of his hips, could only moan in response.

Yuuri was tight, gripping him hard as if trying to keep Viktor inside him forever. And Viktor would stay, gladly, but no force in the universe could have kept him from moving, thrusting deep and slow, never pulling out, but trying to crawl in deeper, _deeper_ , desperate to be close until they were one in the same. Yuuri clearly didn’t mind, heels digging into Viktor’s ass in silent encouragement, voice wavering on throaty whispers of Viktor’s name. He was a vision to die for, panting and moaning to the beat of Viktor’s heart.

“Yu-Yuuri, go on. Drink. I’m – I can–”

He gave up on words and just tilted his neck as far back as he could, taking care not to cease moving. Yuuri was moving in tandem with him now, meeting Viktor’s thrusts with hungry motions of his own.

He wanted Yuuri to feed while Viktor fucking in him. He wanted to come with Yuuri’s teeth in his throat.

“Fuck,” came a strained whisper from under him. “Vitya, you’re–”

Viktor just had time to think that he’d maybe said all of that out loud before Yuuri’s mouth latched on to his neck.

There was something like a kiss, soft and fleeting, before the sting. Viktor breathed through the flash of pain, hips stuttering, and shuddered with a wordless scream when wet-hot suction replaced the pain. Yuuri’s legs tightened around him, keeping Viktor still has he fed. Cool palms ran soothingly along his back, an anchor amidst the haze that spread across his mind. He was aware of the heat flaring in his gut and the short, helpless jerk of his hips, but Yuuri’s mouth on his neck banished all else, leaving him with only a whimper on his lips when Yuuri broke away.

Viktor slumped on top of Yuuri, panting and numb. Fingers slid into his hair, massaging the scalp. Opening his eyes was a chore, his lids too heavy and the darkness tempting, but he was still inside Yuuri, his softening cock buried in a mess of his own release. It would be rude to pass out and leave Yuuri to clean up.

Pulling out drew a moan from his lips and a sigh from Yuuri. Viktor didn’t manage to do more than roll off Yuuri and onto the bed, one arm still clutching his lover. Yuuri was kind enough to follow him, pressing close to Viktor with a lazy, smug grin.

Viktor had to kiss him, had to lick into a mouth that tasted sharp and metallic.

“Vityenka,” Yuuri whispered, breaking the kiss. “How are you?”

“Mm, good. Sleepy.”

Yuuri giggled, eyes scrunching up cutely. Viktor only had a few seconds to thank god, the devil, and Minako for this blessing when Yuuri took his hand, raising it to his mouth for a close-lipped kiss before tugging it down between their bodies. He led Viktor’s hand to his cock, still hard, and with the first touch, Viktor was a lot more awake.

“You can sleep,” Yuuri promised, his wicked grin incongruent with his innocent tone. “But help me out here first.”

“Please,” was all Viktor could say, wide-eyed and hot all over as he watched Yuuri wrap both of their hands around his cock, Yuuri’s over Viktor’s as he directed them to stroke the shaft with slow, firm motions.

Viktor tightened his grip, knowing how Yuuri liked it, and was gratified to hear him moan low in his throat, hips jerking into Viktor’s touch. It didn’t take long for Yuuri to come, cock twitching in their grip, but Viktor kept touching him slow and gentle until Yuuri shuddered with a groan and pulled his hand away.

“There we go,” he told Viktor, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Now, you can sleep.”

“Not sleepy anymore,” Viktor said, winding both arms around Yuuri and pushing their bodies flush together.

Yuuri hugged him close, tucking his face into Viktor’s neck. He was just a little warm now, and Viktor amused himself by pressing his nails into the skin of Yuuri’s back, watching a faint bit of red rise to the surface and vanish just as swiftly.

“Having fun?” Yuuri asked after a while, lifting his to whisper into Viktor’s ear.

Viktor traced a heart on Yuuri’s back, followed by their names; his in Cyrillic, Yuuri’s in kanji.

“Oh,” Yuuri breathed. His lips brushed Viktor’s ear, a kiss and a caress both. “Love you, Vitya.”

The delight bubbling in his chest was echoed in the grin that split his lips. Hearing Yuuri say that was novel even now. He wanted it to remain that way, forever and ever.

“Best anniversary ever,” Viktor declared, squeezing Yuuri a little.

“This is our first and only one, Vitya.”

“Not true. Remember the one last month?”

“That was a different one. And it was plenty of fun too.”

“True. I never thought a rollercoaster would make you scream louder than I ever managed.”

A choking noise greeted him, and Viktor pushed his face against Yuuri’s shoulder to stifle his laughter.

“Try harder then,” Yuuri answered when they calmed, voice almost petulant. “I’m glad though. I had another idea, but I was too nervous this time.”

That had Viktor drawing back to see Yuuri’s face. A light pink flush greeted him along with shifty eyes and a sheepish smile, Yuuri’s expression a perfect picture of coy embarrassment.

Curiosity reared its little head.

“Care to share?” Viktor asked, trying and failing to sound blasé.

Yuuri peeked at him from under his lashes, biting his lip in that adorable way of his. Viktor swallowed a dying animal sound and made himself wait. Finally, after what felt like hours of deliberation, Yuuri spoke.

“No.”

Viktor’s smile froze on his face.

“Eh?”

“It’s supposed to be a surprise,” Yuuri told him, nodding once to himself. The shyness had fled his expression, replaced by a steely determination that left Viktor enchanted and terrified.

“Uhh…”

“Don’t worry, you’ll like it.”

Viktor believed him, but he’d be the first to admit that the things he liked doing with Yuuri often involved acts that defied logic and common sense. Faking his death and hopping countries for instance.

“Do I at least get a hint?” he wheedled, tugging lightly at a strand of Yuuri’s hair.

The response was a grin, secretive and seductive.

“Wait for Paris.”

 

 

**August 21, 2019**

**Paris, France**

 

Paris happened three months later. By the time they were packed and ready to go, Viktor had forgotten all about that particular conversation.

Not much changed after they moved. Their old routine remained the same. Viktor ran his blog more actively, remaining faceless but cultivating a reputation for his unique voice. He branched out a little too, into other areas of entertainment. It kept his mind surprisingly occupied, and helped stave off the occasional urge to scour the news sites for mention of himself.

And even when he did give in to temptation, he usually found little to nothing. Sure, there were the occasional fan articles and skating-related things, but on the whole, people seemed to have given up on him. It was comforting.

Yuuri had asked, just once, cautious from the slant of his mouth to the twitch of his fingers, whether Viktor had in any way changed his mind on that matter, whether he’d be distressed to be erased from the world’s memory.

Viktor’s answer hadn’t changed, and he knew that it never would.

Viktor Nikiforov should die.

It was ironic that it was precisely what he’d set out to do on the night Yuuri found him, only to fail because of the strangest intervention. Now, he was alive again, living with his beloved beside him, but he still wanted his past self dead.

“I died that April night, Yuuri. That’s the way it should be. That’s what I want it to be.”

And Yuuri had seemed only relieved. He was a very silly man sometimes, fearing things he had no business fearing.

Anyway, the fact remained that it was a blend of addictive and reassuring to check upon Viktor Nikiforov while he lived under the name of Anthony Okukawa, “a very nice young man” according to the sweet old lady that lived in the room across theirs. Maria was the only friend Viktor made here; she could match him in chattering about anything and everything, a friendly voice to pass the nights when he desperately missed Yuuri. Sure, this often occurred mere hours after Yuuri’s departure but the sentiment was no less real for it.

He’d briefly considered getting a night shift somewhere, but the idea had no appeal. His blog was enough, and it came without any of the potential ramifications of being recognized.

Viktor, hair still dyed black and long enough to fall halfway down his back, looked nothing like he used to, especially with a pair of contacts and some make-up. But that didn’t quite erase the fear that someone would look too long and see past the façade into the same face that had once been plastered across billboards in this same city.

He did go out with Yuuri though, in those evening hours when Yuuri could venture out without burning his skin and before he had to leave for his patrols. The sights of Paris were familiar to Viktor, from competitions and photo shoots. He vividly remembered that one weekend with Chris, two days of too much wine and too few bad decisions.

The sights were familiar, but with Yuuri by his side, they were the most novel things Viktor had ever laid eyes on. It would be ridiculous to say that love had given him rose-tinted lenses because Viktor was all too aware of the dark undercurrents to the bond he shared with Yuuri. But it was also undeniable that love refreshed his heart and mind, leaving him free to enjoy all the joys that had lost their luster years ago.

He’d said as much to Yuuri, the faint embarrassment of actually voicing such thoughts vanishing at the way Yuuri’s whole face had lit up, his eyes shining in that stunning way they had before he pulled Viktor into a sweet kiss that had melted him down to his bones.

So, yes, Paris was good. Better than England even. He wouldn’t say that the sudden transience of his life wasn’t strange, but it was the good kind of strange. Before, even as he travelled all over the world for competition, his apartment in Saint Petersburg with its cold walls and cute puppy had been home, albeit one he had complicated feelings for. Now, his home was always with him, taking him on a quiet adventure from place to place, and it was wonderful.

He didn’t really know why Yuuri had feared that his work would scare Viktor off though. It wasn’t like he actually saw anything. Yuuri left before midnight and returned at dawn, with nothing to show for his nightly activities except a disgruntled frown that Viktor always kissed away. Until now, his patrols had remained uneventful too. Just cold nights and whispered greetings. It sounded dull even to Viktor.

In some ways, it was like having a husband who worked a very regular night shift.

…Not that they were husbands.

Yet.

The word just slipped into his head sometimes. He hadn’t blurted it out yet, but Viktor lived half in dread and half in excitement of the day he did. He didn’t think marriage was something Yuuri’s kind even did, but the idea of wearing matching rings and being husbands outside of some fake papers was appealing, to say the least.

And with each day that passed, it got harder to ignore the voice in Viktor’s head that said there was no better place to propose than the City of Love.

In the end though, it was Yuuri who pulled out all the stops and surprised him.

Just…not in the way Viktor had intended.

The opposite, really.

It started innocuously enough.

“Vitya, we’re going out!”

“We are! We are?”

Yuuri, frantically rooting through their closet, didn’t react beyond a snort.

Viktor put his book away, crawling to the edge of the bed to better look at Yuuri. In hindsight, Yuuri actually bothering to dress himself should have been his first clue given that he usually just threw on jeans and a shirt most nights he went on patrol. But Viktor hadn’t been paying attention, lulled into complacency by night after night of pleasant routine.

“Don’t you have work though?” he asked, taking the time to appreciate the curve of Yuuri’s butt as he bent over, probably looking for his socks.

Socks disappeared a lot in this house.

“Took tonight off,” Yuuri answered. He was half inside the closet now, wriggling a little. It made Viktor’s palm itch for a touch. “We have plans.”

“First I’m hearing of them,” Viktor shot back. He wasn’t put off, and Yuuri’s surprises were usually very, very nice. But he was stuck waiting until Yuuri removed himself from the closet, and he might as well make conversation.

“It’s a surprise,” Yuuri confirmed, finally straightening up and turning to Viktor. Whatever he said next was lost when Viktor’s eyes fell on the outfits he had in his hands.

A lacy white dress was draped over one hand. Viktor’s. It had been a gift from Yuuri, because ever since Viktor had confessed to missing dresses, Yuuri had taken it upon himself to spoil him with them. Most of them were worn inside their house, a special, fancy parade for his Yuuri. But when he did wear them out, the end result usually left him dazed for hours.

The other item did little to soothe the sudden dryness of Viktor’s throat. It was a skirt, dark blue and pleated. Yuuri’s; he had a clear preference for skirts over dresses.

“Oh,” Viktor breathed, barely hearing himself over the loud beats of his heart. “Those kind of plans.”

Yuuri grinned, sharp and wicked. He stalked over to Viktor, flinging the clothes on the bed before straddling him, naked and tempting as he molded his body to Viktor’s own bare-chested one. A hand fisted in his hair, pulling his head back none too gently. Viktor’s eyes fluttered closed at the sweet ache of it, mouth falling open in a silent gasp. Yuuri’s lips brushed his ear, teeth pressing lightly into his lobe for a too-swift instant.

“Do you remember that club, Vitya? Back in Detroit, when I fucked you in the bathroom.”

That night was hardly something he was going to forget. He still couldn’t believe that it had actually happened.

“Yes,” he forced through a raspy throat when several minutes passed with just Yuuri’s cool breath on his ear.

“Mmm, good. Do you remember what I told you that night?”

He remembered Yuuri telling him a lot of things that night. Most of them had gone straight to his dick and didn’t quite stick around in his head.

“Tell me.”

Yuuri nuzzled him, almost cute if not for the way his fingers tightened in Viktor’s hair. It left his throat exposed to the slow, nipping kisses that Yuuri pressed along the side of it.

Viktor swallowed hard, blood rushing to his cock.

“I said I’d take you to a club,” Yuuri told him, face still buried in Viktor’s neck. “A club for people like us. I said they’d see you, a human with a vampire, and let me do anything to you. I–”

“You said you could break me there on the floor and no one would care,” Viktor finished in a rush, heart in his throat.

That wasn’t all. There was more, but even the memory alone left Viktor dizzy, the words dying on his tongue.

“Please.”

Yuuri didn’t react, just held Viktor like that, trapped and wanting. His teeth dug into his throat every other exhale, the hunger in Yuuri’s veins breaking free for a few tantalizing moments. But then he withdrew, releasing Viktor and leaving his lap.

It was while before Viktor could move. Yuuri watched him all the time with fire in his eyes and trouble in his smile.

“Still interested?” Yuuri asked once Viktor recovered the ability to speak.

He nodded so fast that his neck ached from it. Yuuri’s answering smile was wry.

“I thought you might. I wasn’t so sure at first, you know. But when I was thinking of what to do for our anniversary, this is what came to mind. And it stuck.”

Their anniversary – Viktor remembered now. Yuuri’s mysterious surprise and the promise of Paris.

“I was torn back then,” Yuuri continued, expression oddly pensive for a man who was buck naked. “I didn’t think I’d want others to see you like that.”

Viktor shifted, hands clenching on the sheets, wondering if Yuuri would notice if he tried to adjust himself in his pants. It wasn’t fair that Yuuri could just do these things and remain unaffected.

“What changed your mind?” he managed to ask. He sounded so far gone already. Yuuri politely ignored it.

“I didn’t, not exactly. I just weighed it against everyone seeing that you belong to me.” A breath, Yuuri’s eyes closing for a second. When they flashed open, gleaming red stared back at Viktor. “You’re my pet after all. I can show you off a little.”

Viktor bit his lips, failing to silence the desperate sound that escaped him. He stumbled to his feet, long strides eating the space between him and Yuuri so he could fall into Yuuri with a kiss that clacked their teeth together and cut into his lip. Yuuri sucked on the blood, the flesh closing under his tongue.

“My Vitya,” Yuuri whispered, nuzzling Viktor. “All mine.”

“All yours,” he gasped, dizzy and ridiculously in love. “Always yours. Show me off. I’ll be good.”

It was Yuuri’s turn to groan, and Viktor ate the sound off his mouth, catching Yuuri’s lower lip between his teeth as he pulled back. It was gratifying to see that Yuuri was also half-hard. He pushed away from Viktor before either of them could get distracted, pointing sternly towards the clothes on the bed.

“Dress, Vityenka. Oh, but put that plug in first, would you? We’ll need it.”

He blurred out of sight before Viktor could react beyond stunned staring.

“…Yuuri? Yuuri!”

 

* * *

 

Yuuri had warned him, but words alone hadn’t quite prepared Viktor for the sight of a club packed with creatures right out of story books. Detroit seemed like a mere glimpse now, a pale introduction to a world that stretched far beyond his wildest imagination.

Coming inside, it had been hard to hold on to ingrained rules of courtesy and not gape at the woman with bared breasts and dark-furred legs shaped like a goat’s, or the strangely tall being with glowing veins running across their skin, or the man with the long horns of a ram protruding from his smoothly shaved head.

Yuuri, with his glowing red eyes, was one of the most normal-looking of the lot.

None of them paid any attention to them, save for the bouncer who’d narrowed her eyes at Yuuri, nostrils flaring, but let them pass without fuss.

Viktor stuck close to Yuuri, following his lead as they navigated this throng of mismatched bodies all crammed together. It was immediately obvious why Yuuri had chosen this place. Most of clubgoers made Yuuri and Viktor seem overdressed, and the way they gyrated against each other, their cries often rising above the pounding music, made it quite clear that clothes would only be a hindrance. The one and only time he caught sight of a wall, he thought it was moving, only to realize it was more bodies instead, all tangled up in each other, writhing hot and filthy.

“You weren’t kidding,” Viktor choked out as Yuuri led him to the middle of what was presumably the dance floor. Actual dancers were there, but they seemed to be the minority, and also quite unconcerned with their fellows’ more carnal inclinations.

The notion that he and Yuuri might join the latter group made Viktor’s mouth run dry, something heavy and burning coiling in his gut.

Yuuri wasted no time pulling Viktor close, their bodies flush together; impractical for dancing but perfect to grind against each other to the provocative beat of the music.

“This is surreal,” Viktor mumbled, eyes on the knobbed spine of a person swaying in the arms of another. Black markings decorated their back, standing out even in the club lighting. As he watched, a few of them seemed to shift, crawling on their skin. He shivered.

“Changed your mind?” Yuuri asked, gently squeezing Viktor’s waist. “We can still go back.”

Viktor stepped back, keeping himself as attached as he could to Yuuri while he did. His lover looked stunning amidst the flashing lights, the dark hues lending his face an air of mystery, of danger. Viktor traced the soft curve of a cheek, trailing his fingers to the corner of an eye that glowed red and hungry as it bore into Viktor.

There was an edge to Yuuri here, different from the one he’d sported among the wolves at Detroit.

This was wilder, harsher.

Sexy.

Viktor wanted it turned on him.

“No.” He mouthed the word against Yuuri’s lips, running his hands down his body, past the silkiness of his blouse and skirt to grope at bare skin. Yuuri sighed, and Viktor caught it in on his tongue. “Have you?”

It took Yuuri a moment to answer, maybe distracted by the creeping ascent of Viktor’s hands up his skirt. Viktor drank in the look on his face, all open-mouthed, heavy-lidded pleasure. It flickered for a moment, something like worry passing through it, but what came after was a savage smile, wide and toothy, that stole Viktor’s breath right out of his lungs.

Before he could blink, Yuuri was grasping him by the hair and pulling into a kiss.

It was hard and filthy, Yuuri’s mouth bearing on his with bruising force, parting Viktor’s lips in a gasp that was muffled by the tongue sliding into his mouth. Yuuri’s hand kept Viktor’s head angle the way he wanted, his grip rough in that way that had Viktor weak in the knees. He relinquished his handfuls of Yuuri’s thighs to hold on to his shoulder, pressing himself as close as was possible. Yuuri’s other arm tightened around his waist, but he didn’t stop kissing Viktor, barely giving the time to breathe before taking his mouth again and again. Teeth nipped at his lips, the faint hurt soothed by a cool tongue that curled around Viktor’s; slick, seductive, wanton.

It was the kind of thing that they usually saved for the privacy of four walls. Here, no one would bat an eye, and Yuuri, for all his initial hesitance, seemed to have no trouble taking advantage of that.

Viktor tried to match his fervor, but sometimes, he just wanted to cling to Yuuri and let himself be pried open.

And Yuuri seemed intent on doing just that. The hand on his waist fluttered up his side while the one in his hair made its way down his back. Viktor missed the tingling tug on his scalp, but then two of Yuuri’s fingers pinched his nipple through his dress, and he was too busy whining into their kiss to complain. Yuuri huffed, his amusement breathed into Viktor’s chin, but only did it again, this time twisting the little nub without mercy. The pain had Viktor’s eyes tearing and cock filling, a paradox of sensations that left him squirming against Yuuri, torn between pulling away and pressing in.

The torment continued, a little less harsh this time, and Yuuri kissed the sounds of Viktor’s mouth. The music, loud and blaring, might have drowned out his whimpered cries, but he could feel them vibrate up his throat, and Yuuri surely could hear if the way he ground harder against Viktor was any indication.

“Yuuri,” he found the voice to whisper. The response was a hand squeezing the globe of his ass. “ _Yuuri_.”

Yuuri bit his lower lip, fangs slicing across the tender flesh. The pain barely registered before Yuuri was lapping at the wound, painting his mouth in Viktor’s blood. It looked dark in these lights, like a macabre lipstick smear.

Viktor wanted to throw his head back, bare his throat, and _beg_.

He tried, but Yuuri seemed reluctant to release his mouth, closing the wounds with soft swipes of tongue before diving back into Viktor who could do little but cling to him and kiss back, stifling whimpers as Yuuri tweaked his nipple and palmed his ass with no rhyme or rhythm, teasing Viktor into a frenzy that he was helpless into indulge in except with the increasingly frantic grinding on his cock against the leg Yuuri had between his thighs. The plug inside him, deliberately ignored until now, only made it worse, it’s length and girth too much and not enough at the same time.

“Please,” Viktor managed to whisper in between kisses, pawing at Yuuri’s nape. “Come _on_ , Yuuri.”

There was a sound like a growl that Viktor felt more than heard, and suddenly, the hand on his ass was diving under his dress, lifting the hem with no regard for shame. Viktor froze, breaking the kiss to look around, but the moment he did, it seemed ridiculous because at least two of the dancing pairs were naked and definitely more than that were fucking.

Then Yuuri tugged at the plug, and the people around them were the last thing on Viktor’s mind.

“Good?” Yuuri asked, lips at Viktor’s ear.

He could only nod, too breathless to speak, nearly vibrating out of his skin at the next teasing tug on the plug. Yuuri had abandoned his nipple and that hand had also joined the one down below, both on Viktor’s ass. His dress was rucked up around his waist, leaving his ass exposed and the front hidden only by Yuuri’s body. He was sure no one would even be looking at them, but he still tucked his face into Yuuri’s neck.

This way, maybe, he could imagine that people _were_ looking at them and seeing Viktor being played like an instrument by fine hands that knew how to pluck his strings just right.

Yuuri took the plug out with little ceremony, the sting of it popping past his rim and the sudden reeling absence tearing a low keen from Viktor’s throat. Yuuri made little soothing noises that fell strangely flat, undermined by the growl still audible underneath. Viktor shuddered and clung to Yuuri, biting into his clothed shoulder as two cold fingers replaced the plug. It was a tight fit; the plug had been small and the leftover lube wasn’t enough for Yuuri’s fingers to slide in comfortably. He still worked them in, pulling heaved breaths and throaty gasps out of Viktor, spurred on by each desperate noise.

Viktor took it all, bearing down on the fingers even as his whole body quivered, wanting, waiting.

The tips of Yuuri’s fingers brushed his prostate, and this time, Viktor couldn’t muffle the cry that left his lips.

He could feel Yuuri’s smile in the kiss pressed to his cheek.

He turned his head, right into another kiss, sweet with a hint of fang.

“Yuuri… Yuuri, please.”

Yuuri nosed his way down Viktor’s throat, pressing a kiss to his racing pulse. Viktor tilted his head back, clenching around the fingers inside him in anticipation. Yuuri kissed the junction between his neck and shoulders, worrying a bruise into the skin. It felt good, hurt good, but Viktor wanted, needed _more_.

“Please,” he gasped, closing his eyes. Tears slid out.

Yuuri’s free hand returned to Viktor’s hair, tangling in the locks at the back of his head. He gripped tight, tilting Viktor’s head to the front and side, licking a wet stripe along the straining tendons. Viktor was distracted by Yuuri’s fingers sliding out of him until only the tips were inside, leaving him bereft for a torturous second before they thrust back in, all harsh friction that had his nerves singing.

And then Yuuri bit.

Viktor spared a moment to admire his ability to multi-task even as Viktor’s brain was melting in his skull, and then thoughts were swept away by an explosion of scorching pleasure.

Yuuri was hungry and relentless, mouth and throat working on the wound, taking Viktor deep into him. His fingers never ceased their movement, fucking in and out of him in short little thrusts that burned and sizzled with each errant brush along his prostate. Viktor writhed in time to the play of Yuuri’s fingers and lips, hands clutching his back, little whines leaving him in a desperate litany.

He could feel Yuuri against him, cock digging into Viktor’s thigh, hard and thick and making Viktor yearn for more than the fingers inside him. Yuuri, though, seemed more interesting in wrecking Viktor with his teeth and kept drinking and fingering, slowing and quickening his pace in uneven rhythms that had Viktor sagging in his arms with a needy whimper. It only pushed the fingers deeper into him, until his rim was flush against Yuuri’s knuckles. 

Yuuri moaned around his mouthful of Viktor, never stopping the suction. Without warning, his fingers were on his prostate, merciless as they rubbed the little bundle of nerves and sent Viktor into a trembling frenzy. Between Yuuri’s mouth and Yuuri’s hands, his climax took him by surprise, crashing into him ruthlessly. Sheer, mindless pleasure tore into his body, reducing him to nothing more than a few mangled cries of Yuuri’s name.

Yuuri didn’t stop drinking until several seconds after Viktor slumped senselessly against him. The loss of his heated mouth made Viktor whine, but Yuuri shushed him before his tongue closed the incisions and licked up any spilled blood. He set about rearranging Viktor’s clothes after that, lingering helplessly at the mess on both their fronts.

Viktor let him, resting his chin on Yuuri’s shoulder and letting him take his weight.

It was struggle not to close his eyes and sleep, but it would be rude to do that, especially since Yuuri hadn’t come yet.

He idly watched the floor, the very same activities that had seemed so scandalizing and titillating mere minutes ago made dull and uninteresting by his post-orgasmic haze. Even the music and lights were just irritants now, too loud, too bright.

God, he was _old_.

Viktor’s disinterest continued until the crowd shifted and his gaze snagged on a young man. He was half-naked and pretty, but that wasn’t what caught his attention. It was the woman behind him who wrapped her long fingers around his neck and sank her teeth into his shoulders that arrested Viktor, pulling a gasp from his lips.

He stared, fascinated, as the vampire started feeding. His attention inevitable returned to the man, head thrown back and mouth parted as he was eaten, face twisted into an expression of agonized ecstasy. Viktor could hear nothing, but he had to wonder if desperate little cries were also falling from his lips, plea and praise all rolled into one.

He had to wonder if this was what he looked like when Yuuri had his way with him.

It was beautiful.

He shivered, hugging Yuuri tighter.

“Vitya?” asked Yuuri, who’d stopped patting them down and was now just holding Viktor, taking his weight with ease. “Are you feeling alright?”

Viktor tore his eyes away from the young man, pressing a kiss to Yuuri’s ear.

“More than alright.”

“Can you walk?”

That was a harder question to answer. Viktor tried to step back, away from Yuuri, and succeeded for the most part, even if he wobbled a little and had to cling to Yuuri’s forearms.

“It’s okay,” Yuuri crooned, the reassurance a little incongruent with the blood still smeared in his lips. “Lean on me.”

Viktor did all too gladly, letting Yuuri navigate them out of the throng of bodies. He was expecting that they’d leave, maybe after some water or juice to keep him hydrated and safe from actually fainting. Instead, Yuuri, after a brief hushed conversation with a burly lady that Viktor couldn’t even hear, took them up a set of stairs tucked into a discreet area of the first floor.

“Where are we going?”

“This place has rooms. The just need to be booked in advance.”

“Oh. You really did plan ahead.”

Viktor sneaked a glance at Yuuri, found him smiling almost shyly.

“It took…a lot of thinking before I could go ahead and do this.”

Buoyant warmth filled his chest, cocooning around his heart.

“All for me?”

“Of course,” Yuuri answered without missing a beat. Then he chuckled, a faint, sheepish sound. “Well, it’s not entirely selfless…”

But Viktor was already throwing himself into Yuuri’s arms, unheeding that they were on the stairs. Yuuri wouldn’t let him fall.

And he didn’t, catching Viktor and sweeping him into his arms. Viktor threw his arms around Yuuri’s neck and kissed him, grinning widely against Yuuri’s blood-stained lips.

“You’ll break something one of these days,” Yuuri chided gently.

“You won’t let me,” Viktor told him, tone reflecting just how besotted he was.

Yuuri smiled at him, adjusting Viktor in his hold so that he was more comfortable. After all this time and Viktor’s unending obsession with being carried by Yuuri, they were quite practiced in this.

The stairs led them to a dimly lit corridor lined with doors on either side. Yuuri took them to one roughly at the middle of the hall, finally setting Viktor down to open it with a keycard he must have got from the woman he talked to.

Inside, the room was average sized but lushly furnished, with a circular bed taking up most of the space. On a table to the side, food and drinks were arranged. Even at a glance, Viktor recognized things that Yuuri usually made him eat in the days following a feeding. There was another door on the opposite wall, clear glass that showed an opulent bathroom beyond.

“Wow,” Viktor breathed as Yuuri firmly led him to the bed. “Amazing.”

“Places like these are rare,” Yuuri told him, voice casual but eyes pleased. “But they’re very efficient. I’ve told them to have clothes ready too. Nothing much, but I figured we’d get these messy.”

And well, that they had mostly thanks to Viktor, though now that he was less overwhelmed by everything Yuuri, he could notice a tear or two in his dress, probably courtesy of Yuuri’s hands.

“Pity. I liked this dress.”

Yuuri snorted, reaching for the zipper.

“I’ll buy you another.”

“I’m starting to think that you only buy me clothes so you can tear them off me. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re very careful when I’m wearing _your_ clothes.”

He obediently lifted his hips so that Yuuri could slide the dress off him. There was nothing underneath, especially now that the butt plug had vanished to the ether.

“I like you in my clothes,” Yuuri said from where he was kneeling on the floor between Viktor’s legs. He turned his head to nose at Viktor’s knee. “You smell like us when you do. And look like a dream.” Teeth, nipping harmlessly at the delicate skin and eliciting a shudder. Viktor bit down on his lip and fought not to close his legs around Yuuri. “You look lovely in everything else too, and lovelier still when I rip them off you.”

A smile followed, slow and syrupy and strangely predatory.

“You like it when I rip them off you.”

Viktor shuddered hard.

“But I like it best when you’re wearing nothing at all,” Yuuri continued, running his hands up Viktor’s calves. “So pretty, my pet.”

Viktor cursed, low and rough, and grabbed Yuuri by the front of his blouse, fingers twisting in the fabric.

“Yuuri, stop _teasing_.”

Yuuri blinked innocently at him, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“I’m not teasing. I already bit you, Vitya.” His gaze flicked down to the mess on his skirt, courtesy of Viktor. “Made you come too.”

“But–”

“Oh yes, food!”

And then Yuuri was gone, for far, just to the food table. Viktor pouted at his back and entertained the notion of just lifting on to his hands and knees before Yuuri returned, waving his ass in the biggest nonverbal hint he could offer.

But his body was still trembling, his throat was parched, and a headache was pricking at the edges of his consciousness. So food and juice was probably a good idea. He could seduce Yuuri afterward.

Yuuri came back with a glass of orange juice and a salad. He placed the plate on the bed and sat beside Viktor, wrapping one arm around him and holding the glass to his lips with the other.

Viktor took a sip, smiling in spite of himself.

“You don’t have to coddle me so much, you know.”

“I’m not coddling you,” Yuuri answered primly, eyes narrowed. “I’m taking care of you. Because you’re my mate, and I love you.”

Viktor’s smile widened, softening into something he could feel right in his heart.

“And I love you.”

“Good.” Yuuri was smiling too, heartbreakingly tender. “Now drink. And eat. You need it.”

Viktor did as told, draining the glass and picking at the salad while Yuuri went to get some plain water. On his return, he deemed that the salad was more likely to be eaten with his direct intervention and started handfeeding Viktor. And well, it wasn’t like he was wrong. Yuuri could feed him poison, and Viktor would treat it like ambrosia.

Afterward, he lay splayed on the bed while Yuuri finally took off his own clothes. Honestly, Viktor was still kind of a mess, sweaty and with come staining his cock and thighs, but cleaning up seemed like too much effort. The only reason he was resisting the siren call of sleep was because Yuuri, sweet angel that was, had yet to stick that dick in him, and Viktor was just a little…thirsty.

He said as much. Maybe he whined. Who cared, the end justified the means.

But he probably should have clarified because Yuuri just made a beeline for the fucking water.

“Yuuri, Yuuri, no.” Yuuri stopped, gloriously naked, and turned back to Viktor. “I don’t want water.”

“But you just sai–”

“I want your dick!”

Yuuri’s face froze.

Viktor rolled his eyes and, with great effort, propped himself up on his elbows. He spread his legs a bit for good measure and was gratified to see Yuuri’s eyes snap to the view.

“Fuck me already.”

“You–” Yuuri paused, cleared his throat. “You can barely sit straight.”

“So? Why would I need to? You know very well how _good_ I am at lying down and taking it.”

Yuuri made a little strangled sound, taking an automatic step towards the bed. Viktor made good on his words and lay back down, lazily sliding a hand between his legs to probe at his entrance. It was still a little slick from the plug and Yuuri’s fingers, enough so that he could insert the tip of his thumb inside, teasing himself.

Teasing Yuuri too, and it worked, had him climbing on the bed with sharp, hungry eyes, hands hot and possessive on Viktor’s legs as he settled himself between them.

“You’re insatiable,” Yuuri told him, a complaint that sounded like the opposite of one.

“You like it. Besides, you haven’t come yet. And–” He hooked a leg around Yuuri, yanking so he was draped over Viktor. “I really want to make you come.”

He could feel Yuuri’s full-body shudder, hear his breathless gasp. Yuuri mumbled something indecipherable against Viktor’s chest and straightened, awkwardly crawling away despite Viktor’s wordless protest.

“Just a minute, I need to get things.”

Yuuri opened the little bedside table and retrieved from inside a small bottle of lube. Viktor leaned in for a better look and caught sight of condoms and a ball gag before the drawer was closed.

“Wow, what else is in there?”

“Nearly everything,” Yuuri replied, retuning to Viktor. “What do you think these rooms are for?”

“My Yuuri, always thinking ahead.”

Yuuri’s answering smile was surprisingly tender.

“Rarely. Easier to feel than think when you’re involved.”

“You’re sweet.” Viktor pulled him into a kiss, smiling against Yuuri’s mouth. “Love you.”

Yuuri lay down beside him, still kissing him, and pulled Viktor’s leg over his hips. Viktor followed the movement eagerly, wrapping the limb tight around Yuuri and following it up with an embrace that had him pressed flush to his lover. Yuuri was faintly warm, Viktor’s blood running through his body to lend it a pretty flush of life. It made his gut clench and heart speed even now. He squirmed against Yuuri, needy, until fingers pressed against his whole, slick with lube as they slid into him.

“Tight, even now,” Yuuri murmured, biting kisses along Viktor’s jaw.

“Fucking fix that then.”

Yuuri did, pressing in with a third finger, none too gentle as he opened Viktor up. It burned, but it was the good kind of burn that had Viktor mewling through his teeth, fingers clawing into Yuuri’s back. Yuuri latched onto a patch of skin on his neck, sucking a bruise there as he thrust his fingers in and out of Viktor, tugging at the rim each time. He hooked them just once, knuckles digging into Viktor’s walls and dragging a keening cry from his throat. Yuuri made a pleased noise, the sound vibrating up Viktor’s neck.

Yuuri pulled out, kissing away Viktor’s startled whine, and rolled him on to his back. He was reluctant to untangle from Yuuri, but it was worth it to have Yuuri looming above him, expression set into one of heated want. He rolled his hips down, grinding against Viktor’s limp cock. It had Viktor writhing, fingers twisting desperately in the sheets by his head as his body trembled, unsure whether to flee from the touch or push into it. Yuuri didn’t continue that particular torment, instead settling down on his knees between Viktor’s legs. He grabbed Viktor by the hips and easily, effortlessly pulled him into his lap, pausing to lube his cock and position it so that it slid right into Viktor. It was a little too sudden, a shade too much, but Yuuri stopped once he was as deep in as he could be, running his hands up and down Viktor’s flank as if to soothe him.

Viktor panted, fighting the urge to squirm on Yuuri’s cock.

He was so _full_.

“God,” he found the voice to gasp. “ _Move_.”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow, infuriatingly still despite the need he wore like a second skin.

“Mouthy, aren’t we? And here I thought you were just going to lie down and take it.”

Viktor whined, gritting his teeth as he tried to move, but Yuuri’s fingers clamped down on his hips and kept him still.

Never mind. He knew what Yuuri wanted, and he had no such thing as pride when it came to this man.

“Please,” Viktor begged, blinking wetly as he met Yuuri’s eyes. “Yuuri, please, I need it.”

Yuuri’s mouth parted at the pleas, a shuddering sigh falling from it. He moved, just a little, enough that Viktor could feel him shift inside, thick and deep and maddeningly perfect.

And then Yuuri’s hand wrapped around Viktor’s soft cock, and he was distracted for a whole other reason.

The first stroke had him arching, stomach clenching and limbs twisting. The second tore a high-pitched scream from his throat, raw and aching.

“Fuck, fuck, Yuuri, don’t–I can’t –it’s not–”

Yuuri stopped, loosening his hold. He waited for Viktor to relax and sink back into the bed, at least as much as he could with Yuuri still buried in his ass.

“Too soon?” Yuuri asked, rubbing gently at Viktor’s thigh.

“I’m an old man,” Viktor answered, grinning ruefully. “I can’t get it up yet.”

Yuuri only tilted his head, eyes narrowing.

“I could make you.”

Viktor couldn’t help the way he tightened around Yuuri, memories of all the times they’d done that assaulting his mind. And it was tempting, but he was nearly wiped out already, and if Yuuri got him going again, he might actually pass out. He’d like to avoid that. Fun as it was for him, Yuuri tended to worry when it was all over and done with.

“Not this time. You gave me my pleasure. Let me give you yours.”

Yuuri’s eyes fluttered close. Pink painted his cheeks, the sight birthing brand new butterflies in Viktor’s chest.

And then Yuuri started moving. For all that his smile was sweet as he started down at Viktor, his thrusts were hard and fast, driving out the air from Viktor’s lungs as surely as it emptied his mind.

The angle was amazing, letting him feel every precious inch as Yuuri rammed into him, fingers carving bruises onto Viktor’s flesh. He could have lost himself in that, shaking apart in fierce bliss, but unprompted, an image flashed in his mind; he and Yuuri just like this but down below, one among the many writhing figures by the club walls.

It had him cursing, clawing at the bed and pushing harshly back against Yuuri, desperate for something he couldn’t name.

“V-Vitya?” Yuuri asked, not foolish enough to stop moving.

“We could have done this down there,” Viktor forced himself to say. His voice was rough and mangled, accent thick and dripping lust. “You could have had me there. I wouldn’t have minded, Yuuri, god, I–”

Yuuri gripped Viktor hard by the hips and pulled out, only the head barely inside Viktor for one, heart-stopping moment before he slammed back in, violently taking Viktor. He screamed until his throat ached and only whimpers escaped, pulled out of him by each hard thrust that shook his body.

“There’s a limit, Vitya–” Yuuri growled, the words strangely reverberant as they wormed inside Viktor’s half-crazed mind. “–to how much I’m willing to share you.” He drew out, barely giving Viktor time to register the emptiness before he was folded in half and fucked full again. A scream caught in his throat, fluttering and dying. Yuuri continued. “This? Is _mine_. You’re mine. No one gets this. No one sees this.”

Viktor was chanting yes, English, Russian, he didn’t know, only that it tasted of pleasure and possession and the sweetest frenzy.

Yuuri was bent over him like this, eyes red and half-hidden under the limp fall of his hair. Viktor summoned the energy to reach up and wind his arms around Yuuri’s neck, holding on for dear life when that only made Yuuri fuck him harder.

And because Viktor loved nothing more than a Yuuri driven out of his mind with need, he spoke again.

“I’d look so good though, Yuuri. Out there, pried open on your cock for anyone to see–hah! Yuuri, fuck, _Yuuri_ –mmph!”

It was less a kiss and more an assault, fangs digging into his mouth and making him bleed, only for a hungry tongue to swipe inside and lick up the blood. It sent little shivers down Viktor’s spine, made his cock twitch in renewed interest, but Yuuri broke the kiss to muffle a cry against Viktor’s neck, pushing impossibly deep on his final thrust and staying there, shuddering hard as he came.

After, he collapsed on Viktor, making him huff and roll them both to the side, biting back a curse when Yuuri slipped out of him with a burning sting.

Yuuri was panting, cold puffs of breath falling on Viktor’s skin. He kissed his head, nuzzling the dark strands. He was worse off than Yuuri, heart thundering away while his chest heaved. Soon, Yuuri’s hands were on him, petting him in unsteady motions.

“You’re gonna kill us both one of these days,” Yuuri said, raising his head to smile blearily at Viktor.

“Death by mind-blowing sex. Best way to go, really.”

Yuuri snorted and let his head fall limply on the bed.

“You seemed pretty into it,” Viktor quipped once he’d calmed enough to speak normally. Yuuri peeked at him through one eye, face scrunching up into an adorable expression that Viktor chose to read as the beginnings of denial. “My ass bears the proof.”

And there it was, a brighter blush, one that made Viktor helpless not to press his lips to Yuuri’s cheek in a feather-soft kiss.

“I don’t like the thought of doing it,” Yuuri told him, eyes set on Viktor’s collar. “But the _idea_ of it–you, out there, so blatantly belonging to me–that’s–”

Yuuri trailed off, swallowing hard. But Viktor understood. It was a lot like his feelings on Yuuri draining him to death. He didn’t really want it to happen. The thought of blinking out of existence wasn’t as appealing as it used to be, and he wouldn’t be so cruel to do that to Yuuri. But as a fantasy, it still had merit, and Viktor didn’t think a part of him would ever stop being attracted to that ending. Yuuri’s feelings on this were unlikely to be exactly the same but the gist of it sounded similar.

“Honestly, I think I’d like that better as a fantasy too. The feeding was amazing. No, it was more than that, more than words could say. I loved the feeling of having eyes on us, loved knowing that anyone could see me reduced to a keening wreck by your hands. But anything more, I’d rather it be us? I don’t want to share you either. Not that I’d say no to the occasional bathroom stall…”

Yuuri was smiling at Viktor’s words, gentle from the love in his eyes to the tilt of his mouth. He kissed Viktor, soft and calm, just a gentle brush of mouths that lingered for a long time.

“You. I adore you.”

The words seeped into Viktor’s heart, squeezing tight around the fragile flesh. He pulled Yuuri against him and groped around for a blanket to throw over them.

“Wait, when do we have to leave?”

“We have the place until dawn. We’ll have to leave before the sunlight becomes an issue. It’s okay, you can sleep. I’ll be here.”

“I know,” Viktor said, reverent. “Always watching over me. My guardian angel.”

He fell asleep to the sound of Yuuri’s quiet, happy laughter.

 

 

**November 27, 2019**

**Hyderabad, India**

 

India was an _experience_.

Viktor had been to parts of Asia before for competitions and ice shows, but he’d never been anywhere this far south. The first several weeks were spent wandering, on foot when they could and in cabs otherwise, often alone because Yuuri was limited by the glaring Hyderabad sun and his patrol hours. Viktor would be lying if he said that exhausting himself in typical tourist fashion and going home to a pair of loving arms didn’t have a strong appeal.

Yuuri didn’t really share Viktor’s passion for sight-seeing or shopping, but when they did go out together, he seemed to enjoy himself. And if Yuuri spent more time staring at Viktor than at the Charminar, well, it wasn’t like he was complaining.

Eventually though, the fervor wore off and it was just another place to live, albeit one that boasted a ‘winter’ that was hotter than anything Viktor had experienced. There was no need for heating. He didn’t even need sweaters. It was strange. But it also made cuddling with Yuuri easier, which more than made up for the absence of snow.

In about a month, they had settled into a routine similar to the one in England and France. It was fascinating how Yuuri was unfazed by the rapid dislocation, treating each place with the same disinterested acceptance. Viktor wasn’t as unaffected but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It was nice to travel so much and live in different places for reasons other than competing or meetings or the occasional vacation that just felt like cheating. And while moving from one single bedroom flat to another with no real end in sight would continue to be a little strange, it was also something he could get used to.

Honestly, the best part of living in Hyderabad was how the stares he earned were for his obviously foreign features rather than his fame. This place gave him the impression that he could walk about with his hair undyed and sans contacts, and still just be another Caucasian out for a stroll. Not that he was going to do that. Yuuri could joke all he wanted that his paranoia was rubbing off on Viktor, but after Yuri and Lilia, he thought a healthy sense of caution was quite warranted. And while long hair dyed dark was better than any wig, long hair left its original silver was just begging for any figure skating fan to identify him from a mile away.

No, thank you. Viktor was quite happy to hide and wait for the day when Russia would officially declare him dead.

Meanwhile, he would be Yuuri’s trophy boyfriend, and his blog and Hindi soap operas would keep him company in his darling’s absence.

Planning for Yuuri’s upcoming birthday was the biggest distraction though, especially when he had to keep it a surprise. Phichit and his lot might be content to celebrate the date only every few years, but Viktor would celebrate Yuuri’s existence every day if he could and wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass him by.

Ideas weren’t lacking either. Sure, the tail and ear apparel had long since their novelty. They even had a small collection now.

Maid costumes on the other hand…

They were going to end this month with a bang.

And they did.

Just not the way Viktor planned.

The ruckus at the door was the first red flag.

It was loud and insistent, pulling Viktor out of the slumber he’d just fallen into. He was glad he’d slept in Yuuri’s boxers because this way, he only had to pull on a T-shirt before he went to answer the door. The knocks were quieter by the time he got there and no less alarming for it.

There was no one who would be at their door at one in the morning. Even if Yuuri had, for some reason, returned early, he had his own key.

Viktor came to a stop in front of the door. Another knock came. He clenched his fists.

“Who is it?”

For a beat, only silence answered him. And then:

“Vitya.”

Yuuri.

“Yuuri?”

He didn’t hesitate to open the door. Questions could wait until after he found what was making Yuuri sound so – so quiet, subdued and strange.

The answer turned out to be truly horrific amount of blood.

For several seconds, Viktor could only stand there and stare, sheer disbelief rising inside him as he saw the blood splattered all over Yuuri, on his face and on his shirt – no, not his shirt, his chest. His shirt was torn, hanging off his torso in ragged strips. His pants had fared better but still bore gaping cuts that showed not skin but more blood.

Some of it was still fresh.

A sound escaped him, something too weak to be scream.

He all but fell back from the doorway, one hand reaching to pull Yuuri with him. He slammed the door shut and turned to Yuuri, shaking hands patting his face, all too aware of the blood that stuck to his skin but unable to stop until he could be sure that Yuuri was safe.

Yuuri was still under Viktor’s hands, letting him run his palms all over his skin, wiping away the blood to touch the smooth flesh underneath. It wasn’t until he was crouched by Yuuri’s feet, a thumb in the hole of his jeans, that it occurred to Viktor that even if Yuuri had been injured, the wounds would have closed soon after, leaving behind only blood.

He shuddered and rose. He wanted to hug Yuuri, ask him what happened, but the moment his eyes met Yuuri’s, his mind and body both froze.

They were a brighter red than anything Viktor had seen before, glowing eerily. Yuuri’s face was blank, dazed almost, and he stared at Viktor without seeming to see him.

Viktor stepped back, tripping over his feet but managing to stay upright.

“Yuuri?”

No response.

Viktor sucked in a deep breath and forced himself to stay calm.

The blood. They had to deal with the blood first.

“I–I’ll go get a towel. You–just wait here, alright?”

Yuuri didn’t acknowledge him, not even with a nod. Viktor gaped at him for another long moment before he turned, intent on _doing_ something lest he lose his mind with worry.

He didn’t make it more than two steps before his arm was caught in an iron grip, and he was yanked around dizzyingly fast. He collided with Yuuri’s body and had only a moment to register the icy chill about him before he was being pressed face-first to the door. He resisted automatically but the hand on his arm tightened in warning. Viktor stilled, heart in his throat.

It would be fine.

It was Yuuri, just Yuuri.

Yuuri, who was terrifyingly silent with his cold breath brushing Viktor’s nape and his fingers carving bruises into his biceps.

Suddenly, there was a hand in Viktor’s hair, grabbing a fistful of it to tilt his head to the side. Maybe it was fucked up but with his throat bared to Yuuri, something inside Viktor relaxed.

Yuuri nosed at his shoulder, tongue flicking out for a taste. The sting of teeth was a welcome development. With Yuuri’s mouth working hungrily on the wounds, there was no fear in Viktor, only the same mindless ecstasy that had his body writhing against the one holding him captive. He sank back into Yuuri, and the hands on Viktor shifted with the movement, holding him closer, kinder.

Yuuri stopped drinking, mouth leaving Viktor’s shoulder with a wet pop. The healing swipe of his tongue seemed almost absent-minded.

Viktor was too busy trying not hump the door to complain.

“Vitya,” Yuuri rasped, mouth near his ear. “I’m so hungry.”

“Wha–Yuuri, I’m–”

He wasn’t allowed to assemble and complete that train of thought.

This time, Yuuri’s fangs tore into his neck and his mouth was merciless as it latched on to the freely flowing blood.

Viktor gave a keening cry, reaching with a quivering hand to grasp at Yuuri’s head. It didn’t ground him, not when Yuuri kept muddling his mind and wrecking his body with a pleasure that had no outlet. Viktor gave in, grinding against the door for some relief. It felt like he was being filled to the brim and over, devoured by something beyond him, and he was happy to be devoured.

“Yuuri,” he moaned, pressing in to the mouth on his neck, begging for something that escaped him. “ _Yuuri_.”

Yuuri kept sucking, kept drinking, and Viktor could no nothing but slump against him and let himself be devoured.

His knees gave way, his vision went dark, and the last thing he felt was Yuuri’s tongue hot on his neck.

 

* * *

 

He woke to a low buzzing in his ear and something cold touching his face.

Opening his eyes was a struggle, and he was tempted to give up and slip back under, but then the thing on his face moved, revealing itself to be a hand as it slid into his hair. Something else pressed to his cheek. Lips. Cold and soft.

Yuuri

These were Yuuri’s hands, Yuuri’s lips.

And the buzzing in his ear was Yuuri’s voice, softly repeating the same word over and over and over, sometimes tripping over itself.

 _Sorry_.

Viktor opened his eyes.

And immediately closed them again. The room was too bright and too white, a merciless assault on his sight.

“The lights,” he said – or tried. His voice, dry and rough, came out mangled.

It still got Yuuri’s attention.

“Vitya? Vitya, are you awake.”

“ _Da_. Yuuri, the lights.”

The hand in his hair was gone instantly, and the next moment, the lights dimmed. Viktor was still cautious opening his eyes, peeking out through one. It was very dark now, the only source of light a pair of rectangular holes cut high up in the walls above. There were no windows.

He turned, smiling when his gaze fell on the one was seeking.

“Yuuri.”

Yuuri didn’t return the smile. He looked like was about to cry, eyes wide, mouth wobbling.

Viktor’s first instinct was to ask what was wrong. But then he noticed the IV line on his hand and the bag of blood hoisted on a stand. He was…getting a blood transfusion.

Why was he–

Oh.

Yuuri, bloodied and dazed and drinking, never stopping.

“You took too much,” he said quietly.

Yuuri flinched.

“I nearly killed you.”

He – he couldn’t process that right now.

Viktor held out his free hand, beckoning. Yuuri stared at it as if it were a viper and didn’t budge from his position by the switches.

“Yuuri,” Viktor called, impatient. “ _Come_ here.”

A hesitant step, then another, and then Yuuri was a blur, dropping to his knees beside Viktor’s bed with a dull thud. He covered Viktor’s hand with both of his, pressing his forehead to his knuckles.

Viktor expected more apologies, maybe a plea for forgiveness.

But Yuuri just sat there, down on his knees in utter silence.

Viktor closed his eyes and tried to think about what happened, but the thoughts flitted away like petals in a breeze. All that remained was the image of Yuuri, drenched in blood and almost a stranger.

“What happened?” he asked eventually. “Why did you come home like that?”

It took Yuuri a long time to answer.

Viktor stared at his bowed head, idly wondering when Yuuri had cleaned up.

“There were rumors,” Yuuri said, raising his eyes to Viktor’s. “Of a vampire here breaking the rules. I was looking into it. I confirmed the rumors weeks ago. Then I started looking. Yesterday, I found her.”

The sudden burst of fear in Viktor’s heart had nothing to do with his own health.

“She hurt you. That badly, she… My God, Yuuri.”

“I hurt her worse.” Yuuri smiled. It was empty. “She’s dead. But I lost a lot of blood. I was so hungry. Usually, I’d feed on a few humans, take enough that I’d be full again. But–but I–”

Yuuri didn’t finish. Viktor didn’t need him to.

“But I’ve told you never to drink from another. You promised me.”

“It’s no excuse,” Yuuri practically spat. The sudden, incandescent rage on his face was startling, even when it was aimed at himself and not Viktor. “I was a fucking idiot. I knew what would happen if I came to you in that state, and I–I did it anyway.”

Viktor gently withdrew his hand from Yuuri’s hold. Yuuri let him go but pure pain flashed through his face. It made Viktor hurt, but the way Yuuri went rigid when Viktor laid his hand on his cheek was even more heartbreaking.

“It’s okay,” Viktor whispered, stroking Yuuri’s face. “Yuuri, love, I’m not angry.”

It didn’t help.

“How can you not be?” Yuuri asked, challenging, pleading. “I almost _killed_ you, Vitya.”

Yuuri had said the same mere seconds ago. It was as if he was trying to impress the gravity of it onto Viktor, even as he tore himself apart for it.

But Viktor hadn’t lied. He wasn’t angry.

He understood. Yuuri, drained of blood and starving, had come to Viktor because Viktor had demanded that he always come to Viktor for food. And maybe he was insane but even now, he couldn’t help but think that he’d rather Yuuri take too much from him than feed on another.

And well, he wasn’t dead. Yuuri had stopped.

“But you didn’t,” Viktor told him. “Why didn’t you, if you were so hungry?”

Yuuri looked appalled.

“Of course I wouldn’t kill you! Viktor, I’m–I love you, you’re everything to me. I can’t lose you, I can’t–”

“Ssh, ssh, it’s okay. Darling, I understand. I know. I believe you. And you stopped. Even in that state, you stopped before it was too late. It’s alright.”

Yuuri only shook his head, closing his eyes with a pained grimace.

Viktor mutely stroked his cheek. Exhaustion tugged at his mind, luring it to sleep. But he forced it away. Yuuri needed him.

It was strange to be on a hospital bed with an IV in his arm and be the comforter. Then again, it seemed like Yuuri was distressed enough for the two of them. He had to wonder if it was strange for Yuuri to actually be feeling guilty about almost taking a life. Likely not. He never processed things about Viktor the same way he processed everything and everyone else.

Viktor had always found that sweet. He still did.

He was aware that Yuuri wasn’t the only one acting oddly. Viktor was the same. Even knowing what had happened, even remembering how it had happened, he felt no anger or fear.

 _Kinder than the ocean_ , Yuuri had said once.

He’d rejected it just as vehemently later.

And last night – at least he thought it was last night – had only proved what Viktor had always thought. That dying under Yuuri’s fangs would be the most pleasant way to go. He had felt no pain. There had been no terror, not once teeth sunk into his skin; only the comfort of Yuuri’s arms and the pleasure of his bite. It had been nice, peaceful.

But he was glad he was alive.

He didn’t want to leave Yuuri alone. He didn’t want his death on Yuuri’s hands. Viktor wasn’t so selfish, so cruel that he would condemn the man he loved to such a fate.

There was something novel about that realization. He’d thought about this many times before, always as an abstract eventuality. Now, it was here, it was real, and in the wake of it, it was strangely easy for Viktor to make up his mind.

He loved Yuuri. He would stay with Yuuri.

But looking at Yuuri now, with his face set into acute anguish as he hid his face in Viktor’s palm, he couldn’t make himself say all of that. It wasn’t the right time. They needed to talk this out at a time when Yuuri wasn’t tormenting himself over mistakes that Viktor had already forgiven.

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri reluctantly turned his face, not quite moving away from Viktor’s hand. He didn’t met Viktor’s eyes, guilt and pain a barrier between them.

Viktor sighed.

Time to change the subject.

“When did you get me to a hospital? How long have we been here?”

“This isn’t a hospital. Not exactly. It’s a vampire-run clinic.”

Viktor blinked. It didn’t make Yuuri’s words any more sensible.

“A clinic run by…vampires.”

Yuuri nodded, lips twitching up to a faint smile. It vanished just as fast.

“For vampires too.”

“But you guys don’t get diseases. And your injuries heal. So why?”

Yuuri looked down, biting his lip until pinpricks of red appeared. But he answered.

“For cases like this. Feedings that go overboard. And pets. They came into being soon after Enforcers grew in efficiency. I’m sure someone out there is having a laugh at an Enforcer showing up with his pe–human.”

“It’s okay, you can call me your pet. I like it.”

Yuuri gave him a look that said just what he thought of Viktor’s attitude to all this.

“They also give blood bags to fledgling vampires that can’t hunt safely.”

“Wow. Very efficient.”

Yuuri snorted humorlessly.

“How long have we been here?”

“Not long. Just a few hours. I rushed you here. I got an earful for not bothering to change and hide the blood, but no one saw me so who cares. You were more important.”

Viktor only then noticed Yuuri’s clothes. The shirt was a bit too big on him but it was clean. They must have given them to him, let him clean up.

He imagined Yuuri running through the streets of Hyderabad in the dark with Viktor in his arms. In spite of everything, it made him feel warm.

“Thank you for saving me.”

Yuuri’s face crumpled. He slumped forward with a noise like a sob, forehead coming to rest on the edge of the mattress.

“You wouldn’t need saving if it weren’t for me.”

And there was nothing Viktor could say to that, nothing that Yuuri would accept. He tried anyway, resting his hand on the dark mess that was Yuuri’s hair.

“I forgive you.”

Yuuri’s shoulder continued to shake with muffled sobs.

 

* * *

 

Viktor was released that morning, and they left when the sky was dark enough to be safe for Yuuri. He was happy to be out of there with minimal fuss. The clinic was unsettling; too quiet, too empty. It had been just him and Yuuri in that room until it was time to leave. Then someone had come in, barely looking at either of them before taking the IV out of Viktor. Their hands had been cold.

Outside his room, he’d seen other doors but no people. No doctors, no nurses, no janitors. There was a woman in a dark saree at the front desk, but she’d only given Yuuri a curt nod as they left, not even acknowledging Viktor.

Yuuri had told him that pets weren’t regarded too highly amongst vampires. Not that it mattered. Viktor had bigger concerns than a stranger’s attitude, and Yuuri hadn’t even noticed the receptionist.

The cab ride to their flat was silent, tense. Yuuri had stopped crying a while ago, but Viktor didn’t like the alternative any better. There was something dark and defeated in Yuuri’s expression that made him ache to reach out and fold him into his arms.

He knew that Yuuri wouldn’t let him.

He tried anyway and got as far as taking Yuuri’s hand in his own. It lay limp in his grip but now and then, he saw Yuuri’s gaze wander to it.

It was a long ride despite being only half an hour.

Inside their place, it wasn’t much better. And Viktor, body still weak and mind equally worn, didn’t have the energy to do much more than strip out of his clothes and collapse in bed. He insisted that Yuuri join him. And Yuuri, after several minutes of cautious lingering, gave in.

In the morning, Yuuri was still there.

“I love you,” Viktor said, cupping his face. Yuuri’s skin had a hint of warmth in it.

“I’m sorry,” was Yuuri’s response.

Viktor shook his head, fingers digging into Yuuri’s face.

“Say it back to me.”

“I love you. Of course I love you, Vitya.”

“Good. This one mistake doesn’t change that. Remember, Yuuri.”

Yuuri nodded, didn’t meet Viktor’s eyes.

“I’ll go buy breakfast.”

Then he was gone, and Viktor was left alone with so many words trapped in his throat.

They weren’t freed the next day, or the next, or the next. Yuuri shed some of his despondency. He kissed Viktor sweetly, made love to him slowly, and kept his fangs firmly sheathed.

And with the image of Yuuri crying at his bedside still fresh in his mind, Viktor didn’t push him. They had days yet before Yuuri needed to eat.

Only, when the day did come, Yuuri came home with a freezer full of blood bags.

“Is that how it’s going to be?” Viktor asked, watching as Yuuri heated up blood in a pan like he did this every day.

Yuuri said nothing as he poured the blood into a mug with a dancing pug on it. Viktor had bought that mug for Yuuri. It had been cute, and he’d thought Yuuri would like it even if he had no use for it.

Now, he wanted to throw it against the wall and watch it shatter.

Instead, he sat down on the dining table, facing Yuuri who was leaning against the counter.

It took some time before Yuuri looked up from the mug and at Viktor. His eyes were still brown, no hint of red to be seen. And after all this time, Viktor could easily spot the distaste in his expression.

Good. A fucking bag of blood wouldn’t compare to Viktor.

“I can’t risk hurting you again. Your blood count’s still low.”

Viktor wanted to scream that it didn’t matter. But it did matter. He was trying hard to make up for that accident by keeping a healthy diet and taking iron supplements. It wouldn’t do to ruin it all because he was jealous of a literal blood bag. He’d made his decision, and he was staying with Yuuri, and that meant staying alive.

Just this once, he’d let this happen.

“Okay. I understand.”

Yuuri drained the mug in one, long gulp. After, he licked the blood from his lips with a grimace.

“Not as good as me, is it?” Viktor had to ask.

Yuuri gave him a look that burned him down to his bones. There was nothing but need it in; pure, devouring need.

“Nothing is,” he replied, voice a low rumble.

Then he turned away, grabbing another bag of blood. Viktor had to fight very hard not to sigh morosely.

That night, Yuuri fucked him into the mattress but kept his mouth firmly away from Viktor’s neck.

The strangest thing was that Yuuri ate more when he was subsisting on blood bags. Not daily but every few days, Viktor would see him rip open a new one and heat it up. He was always tense when doing it in front of Viktor, but he didn’t try to hide. Perversely, Viktor appreciated that.

The problem was that he’d always assumed it’d be temporary. A few weeks and done.

It didn’t quite work that way.

His birthday passed in a flurry of shopping and sex, Yuuri spoiling him rotten with infectious cheer that, for two whole days, wiped all worries from Viktor’s mind. It didn’t even seem to matter that he was growing old, not when Yuuri looked at him like _that_.

But eventually, Viktor remembered that even as Yuuri held him close and carved stars into the map of his mind, he’d never once bitten Viktor.

He didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. He tried too, thinking that Yuuri just needed more time. But even attempts to broach the subject were quietly rebuffed, robbing Viktor of a chance to tell Yuuri everything he had to know.

On New Year’s, sharing a kiss at midnight and finding Yuuri’s mouth tasting of blood that wasn’t his, Viktor snapped.

He pushed and Yuuri went with it easily, his back colliding with the bed none too gently. Viktor followed him down, straddling his waist and looming over him with both arms braced on the headboard. Yuuri had a smile on his face as he looked up at Viktor, seeing only him.

It vanished when Viktor spoke.

“Did you eat today?”

“Yes,” came the clipped answer.

“Tell me, how does it taste?”

Yuuri’s lips thinned in irritation. Yeah, Viktor was pretty irked too.

“Like plastic,” Yuuri bit out, baring his teeth almost unconsciously. “Like drinking hot, melted plastic.”

“Why?” Viktor asked, breathless, desperate. “I’m right here.”

“You _know_ why,” Yuuri snarled, fangs flashing. His hand shot up, grabbing the collar of Viktor’s shirt and yanking, exposing a neck and shoulder that was woefully unmarked. “You nearly died, Vitya.”

“It was an accident,” Viktor shot back, not giving an inch. “How long are you going to punish yourself for it?”

Yuuri’s stubborn glare seemed to say _Forever_. Viktor leaned down until their faces were nearly touching.

“How long are you going to punish _me_ for it?”

“Vitya, I’m not trying to. I just don’t want to hurt you again!”

“For fuck’s sake Yuuri, you just admitted to drinking what tastes like melted plastic to spare me any hurt. That right there proves that you wouldn’t ever do that again. And even if it didn’t, I already said it, didn’t I? I forgive you.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Care to explain? Or would you rather run away again?”

Yuuri’s eyes flashed red, anger glowing in them. Viktor met his gaze squarely.

He had never intended to turn this into an argument. But over a month of agitation lashed about within him, made worse by a healthy dose of frustration.

Yuuri had told him right from the start that vampire bites could be addictive. It apparently wasn’t the kind of addiction that wrecked you with withdrawal, but clearly, it wasn’t one to fade away quietly either. And Viktor didn’t want it to fade. He needed Yuuri to talk to him and feed on him.

Viktor took a deep breath, forcing his voice to calm.

“You’re making yourself unhappy by drinking this blood. You’re making me unhappy by refusing to talk this out. Work with me. Let’s fix it.”

Yuuri’s eyes remained red but some of the anger drained out of them. He closed his eyes, clenching them tightly for a moment before opening them.

“It’s not that simple,” he repeated. “That night, Vitya, I nearly did something unforgiveable.”

Viktor gave a frustrated groan.

“Stop that. Yuuri, what happened happened. It’s over. It was a mistake, an accident. You stopped on time and got me help. You gave me time to recover. You were good to me, Yuuri, and you have never failed to be. Please end this now.”

His words had the opposite effect than intended. Viktor didn’t even have the time to process Yuuri’s fanged snarl before he was flipped over, pressed bodily back to the bed with Yuuri looming over him, expression set into something cold and dangerous.

“Do you think I would have let you die, Viktor?”

That brought Viktor’s thoughts to a screeching half.

“What?”

Yuuri’s hand crept up Viktor’s torso, eliciting a delicate shiver even through the cloth, and loosely curled around his throat. Viktor swallowed instinctively and felt his Adam’s apple brush Yuuri’s cool skin.

“That night, do you think I would I have let you die? If I had drained you to the brink, past the healing hands of medicine, do you think I’d have let you simply pass from this world?”

Viktor’s pulse leapt. His mouth was suddenly too try for words. He didn’t even move, only stared at Yuuri with bemusement and the faintest inkling of an idea. He couldn’t ponder it though, not when Yuuri looked at him with such raw intensity in his eyes.

Suddenly, Yuuri gave a sharp bark of laughter. Viktor jumped, gasping when Yuuri’s hand tightened around his throat.

He was hard.

“Of course not,” Yuuri said. “If you were in danger of dying from my lack of control, if you were going cold in my arms because I stole your life, if I were losing you decades before I should have to even consider the notion…I wouldn’t let you die, Vitya. I would turn you. Without second thought, I would give you my blood. Even though I have promised never to do that, I would. I know it. Do you think I didn’t consider it before I ran to the clinic? Do you think there wasn’t a moment when I thought it’s better to risk your wrath, your hate than watch you slip away from me?”

“Yuuri…” Viktor murmured. His heart was beating in this throat.

“I would have done it,” Yuuri continued. There was a tremble in his voice, one that made him sound soft and strangely fragile. “I would do it. Even now, I would. And that’s all I think about when I scent your blood and see your veins. I remember how easy it would have been to change you forever, to _keep_ you forever.”

“Oh, Yuuri.”

“You’d hate me for it. And I can’t live with you hating me. So I stay away.” Yuuri bowed his head, shuddering. The hand on Viktor’s throat drifted to his face. “Please understand, Vityenka. I want to be good to you. I’m trying so hard to be good. Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Please.”

It broke his heart to see Yuuri reduced to begging over this.

Viktor could understand why Yuuri saw it this way, why Yuuri was so terrified. He just had to let him know that he had no need to be.

“I would never hate you, my Yuuri. Never could.”

Yuuri’s answer was a derisive chuckle.

“Really?”

In a flash, Yuuri’s mouth was on Viktor’s throat, closing over his racing pulse. Two sharp points dug into the delicate flesh, not breaking skin, only suggesting pain and pleasure. Viktor held his breath and waited for more, but Yuuri only held that position for several long seconds before pulling back.

“Look,” he said, oblivious to Viktor’s disappointment. “I can hear your heart race in fear. I can taste it on you.”

If Viktor were in the mood, he’d have laughed.

“Don’t be an idiot, Yuuri.”

He reached up to take that face he so loved in his hands. Yuuri’s expression had set into an odd one, but Viktor was focused on the sadness in his eyes. Had Yuuri been hiding that all this time alongside these fears of his?

Silly man.

But god, Viktor loved him.

“That’s not fear.” He gently drew Yuuri down to him. Yuuri followed limply, letting Viktor press a chaste kiss to his lips. “That’s love.”

“But–”

“How could you think I’d ever hate you? I am such a fool for you, Yuuri.”

Agony twisted Yuuri’s face, and Viktor’s heart wrenched along with it.

“I promised you. That I wouldn’t turn you. I swore to let you choose.”

“You did. And I trusted you to keep that.”

“You can’t!” It was a shout, sudden and startling, but Yuuri mellowed just as swiftly. “That’s it, Vitya. You can’t trust me. You shouldn’t. I’m selfish, so selfish, and I want you forever, and it took almost losing you for me to realize there are no lines I wouldn’t cross for the sake of that.”

Viktor had to wonder if he’d have found that more disturbing or even infuriating if he had not made up his mind about this already.

He wasn’t sure. But maybe he’d still have found it romantic. He never did think right when it came to Yuuri. And why would they need lines between them. Viktor would all too gladly meld them into one person, one body, one soul; two solitary existences fused together into an exquisite chimera.

“My poor Yuuri,” Viktor crooned, kissing Yuuri again. This time, Yuuri kissed back, sighing into Viktor’s mouth. “Is that why you didn’t drink from me, my love? Because of the guilt?”

Yuuri nodded, laying down on Viktor with his face hidden in his neck.

“I’m afraid I won’t stop. And afterwards, I will…”

Viktor soothingly stroked his hair, took another deep breath, and took the plunge.

“What if you didn’t have to?”

Yuuri went rigid. He rose, rolling off Viktor to sit on the bed, legs folded under him and hands twisting in his lap. Viktor joined him, reluctantly pushing himself up and facing Yuuri.

His heart was beating so fast. But it wasn’t fear, not even now.

“What do you mean?” Yuuri asked, eerily quiet.

“I told you, over a year ago, that I was scared of eternity. I said I needed time.”

He waited, expectant. Yuuri nodded. He didn’t seem to be breathing.

“I had time. For months, I’ve thought it over. And you know, I could never be sure. Do you know what convinced me, Yuuri?” Viktor reached over and took Yuuri’s cool hand. It lay still and limp in his grip. “You almost killed me.”

Yuuri flinched violently, automatically trying to pull his hand away. Viktor held tight, didn’t let him.

“But you didn’t. I woke up, and I was happy. I was glad to be alive. Do you know why, Yuuri?”

Maybe he was asking too many questions, but answering, even with only another numb shake of his head seemed to ground Yuuri a little. Viktor bent to brush his lips against the back of Yuuri’s hand, pouring every bit of his adoration into the simple gesture.

“Because of you, Yuuri. You’re here. I’m with you. Waking up meant I hadn’t left you alone. It’s not that I never knew how cruel it would be to you if I were to die…I was selfish too, in my fear.”

“No. No, you can’t say that. It was your decision. You had every right to it.”

Viktor couldn’t have stopped himself from peppering kisses over the hand in his grasp even if he’d wanted to. When he looked at Yuuri again, there was a tremulous smile on his lips.

“I did. I know that. But it still hurt you. I know that too. It’s okay though, Yuuri. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve made up my mind. I’m not afraid anymore.”

“What are you saying, Vitya?”

“You know what I’m saying.”

Yuuri swallowed convulsively. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse with emotion.

“Please. I need to hear you say it.”

Viktor released Yuuri’s hand in favor of holding his face, looking straight into Yuuri’s eyes when he said the words that he knew would change his life – their lives – forever.

But their lives had already been changed irreversible on that cool April night two years ago; two divergent paths brought together by the most unusual of circumstances.

It had been the best thing to happen to Viktor. He wanted it to be the best thing to happen to Yuuri too, and not a love to be mourned and regretted and forgotten.

And he wanted this for himself, wanted years and decades to recapture the spark he’d lost and had yet to truly regain. He wanted to live, enjoy what the world had to offer with nothing to bind him. Except Yuuri. Viktor would gladly let himself be tied and wrapped in the bonds of Yuuri’s love. It only made freedom taste sweeter.

He kissed Yuuri, breathing into him a promise that he echoed in his words.

“I want an eternity with you, Yuuri.”

Viktor was pulled into a crushing embrace so quickly that he couldn’t react beyond a sharp gasp. Yuuri was clutching at him, the pressure solid and aching, and Viktor returned it as best as he was able.

“Don’t joke around,” Yuuri said, feeble and wavering. “Not in this, never in this.”

“Yuuri, Yuuri, I’d never. You know me. You know I’m serious.”

Yuuri shuddered hard. Viktor wanted to soothe him but could only hold him tighter.

“I mean it,” Viktor said. “Every word. I want this, for me and for you and for us both. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”

“Don’t be.” A pause and then, “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Very much, Yuuri. We’ll figure out the details later, when we’re calmer. But I’m sure. I’m not changing my mind. You have me forever. If you want me.”

He didn’t really fear that, but it was still gratifying to hear Yuuri rush to respond.

“Of course I want you. You’re all I want.”

“You have me, Yuuri. Always.”

Always. They’d used that words so many times before. But it was the first time Viktor meant it literally.

Always, always, always.

“Always,” Yuuri repeated, naked awe in his voice.

“Yeah,” Viktor breathed, pulling away so he could kiss Yuuri on the mouth. “I promise.”

Yuuri was trembling lightly, but before Viktor could worry, he felt Yuuri grin against his lips, wide and uncontrolled. Viktor pecked him again, tempted to linger but breaking away with resolve.

“Seal it with a bite?”

Yuuri blinked, confused for an instant before his eyes darted to Viktor’s neck. And then he just looked hungry. Viktor’s dick perked up a little. He tilted his head back and gently led Yuuri’s mouth there, relieved when he allowed the motion.

“Go on. I’m yours.”

Yuuri made a desperate, needy little noise. There was a cold huff of air and then the burst of pain he’d been longing for. Wet suction replaced it, and Viktor let himself drift into the pleasure, cradled in gentle, possessive arms.

 

 

**April 08, 2020**

**Hasetsu, Japan**

 

Yuuko looked up from the counter, lips parting, eyes widening.

“Yuuri-san?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I usually edit chapters of this fic 2 or 3 times, but this monster only got proofread once. Sorry for the probable increase in errors.
> 
>  ~~And I have a little announcement, guys. I’m a hapless college student dying of grad school, and my finals are soon. As a result, I’ll be taking a break from fics for the rest of this month. Updates will continue as per schedule in June, but for the rest of May, _Midnight Lover, Toxic Valentine,_ and _In Fire, In Whispers_ will not be updated.~~  
>  Forget all of this, I'm changing unis and not writing my finals. The uni changing business means I'll be busy for a week and another in June, but fic updates will resume next week (i.e, penultimate week of May.)


	21. and i hold your beating chambers until they beat no more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings in the end notes**. I highly suggest that you check them out.

Viktor’s hair spilled over his shoulders, black like midnight.

It was strange that Yuuri was used to the color now; so much so that it would be jarring, though far from unpleasant, to see him return to his natural silver. But that day was a long way away. They had to hide for a while yet.

“It’s so long,” he said, quiet and almost a whisper. Viktor’s response was a chuckle, followed by a sigh as Yuuri’s fingers sank into his scalp, massaging gently.

“Not as long as it used to be.”

That was true. Viktor, at one point in his youth, had had hair down to his hips. Now, it barely brushed his waist. But there was no comparing the two. It was all beautiful. Viktor was beautiful.

“It suits you,” Yuuri told him, dutifully working out the remaining tangles in Viktor’s hair. Long hair was high maintenance, but Yuuri found these hours, spent with his hands buried in soft silky locks, relaxing. Viktor enjoyed it too, melting into the touches with soft sighs and wide smiles.

Done with the tangles, Yuuri picked up a brush. Two rounds of careful combing later, Viktor’s hair lay in a gorgeous fall down his back, straight and shining. Yuuri wanted nothing more than to stroke them with his palms and luxuriate in their soothing smoothness. But that would have to wait. They had places to be tonight.

Still, he couldn’t resist petting Viktor a little.

“Should I braid it?” he asked, reluctant to let go. His intentions were noble anyway. Braided hair would be easier to manage on their date.

“Sure. Can you braid though?”

“Of course I can braid, Vitya. It’s easy.”

Well, he’d never tried to before. But he’d looked it up not long after Viktor had once come to bed with his hair neatly braided. It looked simple. Yuuri could do it.

Several minutes and severe struggling later found Yuuri gaping at a misshapen monstrosity that not even his beautiful Viktor would be able to pull off.

“…maybe not that easy.”

Viktor snorted. He reached back to feel at the mess Yuuri had made of his lovely hair, not seeing how Yuuri cringed and backed up a step. As expected, more laughter followed, endlessly amused.

“Well,” said Viktor once he calmed down. “Not bad for a first try.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” Yuuri grumbled, wasting no time undoing the braid.

“Maaaaybe!”

“Hmph.”

It had to be brushed again. Viktor kept his snickers mostly contained, and even Yuuri ended up smiling after a while.

“Why don’t you leave the hair to me, Yuuri? Do my makeup instead.”

Yuuri was confident he wouldn’t mess up in this. This had become a morning ritual back when they both worked in Detroit, a way for him to comfort Viktor on his bad days and draw comfort in return. They hadn’t needed to do it much this last year. Viktor rarely went out, and when he did, he did his makeup on his own.

It was with tenderness bubbling up inside him that Yuuri delicately handled silver lashes and eyebrows, painting them a black that was a shade darker than Viktor’s hair. Viktor sat still for him, eyes closed and smiling. Afterward, he did as promised and swept his hair into a much looser braid than the one Yuuri had attempted. He did it so effortlessly, but the end result was stunning. Yuuri was too busy admiring the sight to be jealous.

“How do I look?” Viktor asked once he finished.

“Pretty,” Yuuri answered without missing a beat. “Perfect.”

Viktor’s smile was happy and indulgent.

“Thank you, love. But I was more concerned about how recognizable I am.”

“Oh. Um, you look different. I’m used to this now, but I doubt anyone will easily connect you to Viktor Nikiforov.”

“Even Yuuko?”

Yuuri bit his lip, unsure.

“I don’t know. I hope so. Vitya, are you sure...”

“Yes.”

“It’s a risk.”

Viktor reached out, taking Yuuri’s hands in his. His grip was warm and solid, reassuring.

“I know, Yuuri. It’s not that I’m not aware that going to an ice rink run by a fan of mine is idiotic. But the rink here is special. You remember that night, don’t you? When you took my hands and led me on the ice?”

“Vitya, I’d never forget.”

“It’ll be fine. We’ll be safe.”

Yuuri sighed and stepped forward. Viktor’s arms came around him in an embrace. Yuuri cupped his face, thumbing the curve of his cheekbones.

“At least we’ll be alone there. I reserved the rink.”

“Mm, good. A perfect last date.”

Yuuri poked Viktor on the cheek, gently admonishing.

“It’s not the last, Vitya.”

“The last in this life? I’m about to die after all.”

Yuuri’s exasperated look bounced right off Viktor’s wide grin. The last few months had been filled with entirely too many death jokes. Yuuri grumbled occasionally, but he had the feeling that they were Viktor’s way of warding off any apprehension about what was to happen. It must be working. He remained consistently cheerful, and genuine too.

Yuuri never stopped fearing that Viktor might change his mind.

He hadn’t, and now, the day had arrived. It wasn’t like they’d read the stars and set a date. They’d followed Yuuri’s work from India to Japan and, towards the end of March, Viktor had said, “It’s time.”

Yuuri hadn’t argued.

A week later, they’d left Tokyo for Hasetsu. Yuuri had even petitioned for a leave of absence from the council. That had been approved immediately. Looking after a fledgling vampire was serious business, much to Viktor’s amusement.

Yuuri thought he’d be less amused when he was trapped in a house with fire licking down his throat and hunger twisting his stomach, but he wasn’t going to _say_ that.

“It’ll be a very pleasant death,” Yuuri told him, dipping his head for a kiss. “I’ll be very, very good to you.”

Viktor shivered, mouth parting in a faint gasp that fell sweet and hot on Yuuri’s lips.

 

~

 

Viktor was tense as they approached Ice Castle but not once did he falter. Yuuri followed his lead, keeping their hands tightly entwined for both their sakes.

Yuuko had no idea that he was the one who’d reserved the rink. It had been done online, and he’d used Viktor’s alias rather than his own. In hindsight, it might have been better to call instead and get her used to the idea rather than shock her like they were about to. But that was the problem with procrastination. It would seem like a good idea but would inevitably backfire.

Yuuri sighed. Beside him, Viktor swallowed audibly.

“Ready, Vitya?”

“Ready,” Viktor answered, voice rough.

They went inside.

The interior looked a little different. A new paintjob and some extra furniture had transformed it enough to be jarring for a split second. Viktor didn’t seem to notice, but Viktor hadn’t spent months working here. Then again, he probably had greater concerns at the moment.

Yuuko was at the reception, bent over a book and scribbling on it. Viktor let go of his hand and shuffled behind Yuuri.

He cleared this throat and called out.

“Yuuko-san.”

Yuuko froze at his voice. She looked up from the counter, lips parting, eyes widening.

“Yuuri-san?!”

The shock only lasted a moment before a wide grin replaced it. Yuuri was caught off guard by her expression, so much so that he just stood there and stared until Viktor nudged him from behind.

But Yuuko was already speaking.

“I can’t believe you’re back! You didn’t keep in touch, and I thought we’d never see you again.”

Behind him, Viktor smothered a laugh. His Japanese was pretty good now, and he was laughing at Yuuri. Understandable. Yuuri did fairly suck at keeping in touch. Though to be fair, he rarely wanted to.

“Ah, um, yes. It’s nice to see you again, Yuuko-san.”

“Yes, yes. When did you get here?”

“Oh, just last night.”

Yuuko kept smiling brightly, but it vanished abruptly as she remembered something.

“Did you come to skate? I’m so sorry, Yuuri-san, but the rink’s reserved for the evening.”

“That’s okay, it’s mine. Well, it’s in Anthony’s name, but it’s for us.”

It was only then that Yuuko seemed to notice Viktor standing behind Yuuri. It was an abysmal hiding spot, but Yuuko’s surprise at seeing Yuuri had kept her attention away until now.

“Oh, your boyfriend! I’m sorry, I’m being rude. Welcome to Ice Castle, Okukawa-san.”

Viktor didn’t respond verbally, but Yuuri felt him nod. Yuuko remained as cheerful as ever.

He sent Viktor off to the rink while he dealt with Yuuko and got their rental skates. He had the sense to ask her about her family, and she seemed happy to answer him and do most of the talking. Yuuri remembered that he’d always liked how Yuuko never seemed to perceive his reticence to talk as rudeness.

“Please enjoy yourselves,” Yuuko told him. “You worked here so I’m not worried that you’ll be in any danger. Call me if you need me.”

“Thank you, Yuuko-san.”

She grinned, winked, and left. Yuuri let out a deep breath.

She hadn’t recognized Viktor. Perhaps because she hadn’t got a close look at his face. They were safe for now. He just hoped it would last.

He found Viktor leaning on the barrier as he stared at the gleaming white expanse of the rink, with an expression that was calm and intense in equal measures. He started a little when Yuuri touched him on the arm, but said nothing as he took the skates and marched over to the bench to put them on.

“No, wait,” he said when Yuuri tried to do the same. “Let me.”

Yuuri was bemused but waited anyway, watching quietly while Viktor tied his skates with smooth, practiced motions. There were some things you just never forgot. For Yuuri, that involved fun things like how to angle his hand to tear through flesh and bone to claw out one’s heart. But Viktor had been raised on blades and ice.

Once he was done, Viktor stood up and sank to his knees in front of Yuuri.

“Uhhh…”

Yuuri could only sit and blink as Viktor took his left foot and set it on his thighs before grabbing the skates. It was obvious what he was doing. Yuuri just didn’t know why he was doing it.

“You know I can do this myself.”

“Of course you can,” Viktor replied immediately. “I want to though.”

“Sure, but why?”

Viktor shrugged, smiling.

“You did this for me last time. Remember?”

Yuuri did remember. Viktor had been nervous and coiled tight as a spring, and Yuuri had been desperate to help him relax. But he hadn’t been aware that Viktor had registered each detail of that evening so clearly.

“It’s not a contest, Vitya. You said that once. You don’t need to return the favor.”

Viktor huffed out a laugh and bent to press his lips to Yuuri’s right foot. He shivered.

“I know. That’s not it. I wanted to do this back then too, but I was too…well, you know how was I was that day. But yeah. I want this. You have lovely feet.”

Now Yuuri was just confused. And ever so lightly turned on but that, he pushed to the darkest depths of his mind.

“They’re just feet?”

“Your feet,” Viktor said, as if that meant something.

Yuuri decided to shut up and enjoy the sight. Viktor on his knees was a lovely vision no matter what the situation, and his hands were gentle and pleasant on Yuuri’s feet.

Several minutes later, they were gliding on the ice, holding hands.

“Did you miss this?” Yuuri asked when moments passed and Viktor seemed content to skate in circles.

“Yes and no,” came the reply. “The ice is complicated for me. But I’ll never not love this.”

“This…?”

Viktor flashed him a smile that melted Yuuri’s heart.

“This. You. Skating with you.”

“I must be holding you back.”

Viktor just shook his head and turned to take Yuuri’s other hand so that they were moving face to face. Viktor led him around in loose patterns, occasionally moving their arms in approximation of a dance. It was silly.

It was fun.

Yuuri didn’t know how much time had passed when, between one clumsy stumble and a delighted peal of laughter, he pulled Viktor close and kissed them. He licked the smile off Viktor’s mouth, nibbling at his lips and gaining a breathy sigh in return. They spun around a few times, cradled in each other’s arms, before coming to a stop. Yuuri was reluctant to stop kissing, and Viktor seemed to be in no hurry to pull away either.

They had to, eventually. Viktor clouded his mind in the best of ways, but Yuuri couldn’t quite shake off the awareness that Yuuko could check in on them at any moment.

“Yuuri,” Viktor breathed when they parted. There was a smile in his voice. “My lovely Yuuri.”

“Vityenka.”

They stood there for a few more moments, breathing shared air, before Yuuri found the nerve to voice the idea that had taken root two years ago, a mere three months after meeting Viktor.

He had practiced too, not regularly but as often as he could, keeping it a careful secret.

“Can I show you something?”

Viktor blinked, tilting his head to the side.

“Sure,” he said, detaching from Yuuri and skating a few feet back.

Yuuri dragged in a few centering breaths.

Okay. He could do this.

He remembered all too well the number of times he’d fallen trying to jump, bruises and cuts that had all healed in the blink of an eye, blood that had to be cleaned off the ice. It had begun as mere curiosity, but one that had been easily abandoned.

Yuri Plisetsky, of all people, had changed that.

And then Yuuri had practiced, uncertain at times, frustrated at others, but never managing to stop. He did strange things when Viktor was involved.

Yuuri skated in a loose arc, preparing himself. When he was close enough for Viktor to see him clearly but not so close that a mishap would take them both down, he jumped.

Figure skating wasn’t something that held any personal interest for him. No human sport did. They were easy in all the wrong ways, and hard too, also in all the wrong ways.

But now, twisting in the air once and landing on one blade with arms spread out on either side of him, all carefully controlled energy and relieved satisfaction, Yuuri thought he could catch the briefest glimpse of why humans broke down their bodies for the sake of passion.

Then he caught sight of Viktor gaping at him, hands clamped over his mouth, and all other thought left his head.

“Yuuri!” Suddenly, Viktor was in his arms, and Yuuri slid back a few feet at the force of their collision. “Was that a single flip?!”

Yuuri bit down an uncontrolled grin.

“Yes? I mean, yes. I know the quad flip is your signature, but I’d bash my head open if I tried that. So, uh, yeah. The single flip.”

Viktor seemed shocked still.

“B-but how! When? You never told me you…”

“It was meant to be a surprise. I wanted to – well, I kind of wanted to share in your world a little. Back when we met. The idea stuck.” Viktor remained silent. Yuuri found himself filling the silence almost desperately. “I considered not doing it. I didn’t want to remind you of anything unpleasant. But I kept practicing anyway. And now, well…”

“It was impulsive, wasn’t it?” Viktor asked, a corner of his mouth quirking up.

Yuuri ducked his head.

“Yeah. Pretty much.

A second later, he was being hugged tight, his face smushed awkwardly against Viktor’s collarbones. He could feel Viktor rub his cheeks on the top of his head like an affectionate puppy. It was endearing and bewildering so Yuuri just returned the hug as best as he could and waited for Viktor to calm down.

It took a while.

Viktor, when he finally let Yuuri go and backed up a bit, was flushed and grinning.

“Oh, good, you’re not mad,” Yuuri said before he could stop himself.

“Of course not! You’re the sweetest, Yuuri.” Viktor’s smile gentled. “Thank you for showing me.”

All of a sudden, they were skating again, Viktor pulling Yuuri with him. He let it happen for several seconds before changing directions, leading Viktor around the rink in lazy circles. Viktor was smiling, eyes crinkled, but there was a distant look in his gaze that worried Yuuri. He kept quiet, giving Viktor time.

“I want to show you something too,” Viktor announced out of the blue.

“Vitya?”

“I’m a little rusty,” Viktor said, skating away from Yuuri. “Let me warm up first.”

Yuuri was confused, but Viktor didn’t seem intent on giving him answers. He skated back to the barrier, leaning against it as he watched.

Viktor’s skating was…different.

He almost always had a certain grace to his movements, not the unnatural sort that Yuuri and his kind employed, but something human and cultivated. It was captivating to watch and just one of the many things about this man that left Yuuri dazed on a regular basis.

But now, it wasn’t just grace that colored each arcing twist of Viktor’s limbs. There was a more deliberate quality to it. A beauty, a…musicality.

He looked like he was going to dance.

No.

No, he looked like he was going to _skate_.

Yuuri whipped his head around, eyes darting wildly for any trace of Yuuko. He found none. He shut his eyes and concentrated on his hearing, but the only racing heartbeat nearby was Viktor’s. He could hear Yuuko, still in the reception, humming a faint tune under her breath.

The slick scrape of skates on ice brought his attention back to Viktor. He turned just in time to see Viktor rise out of a spin. He came to a stop and cocked his head at Yuuri.

“Checking for Yuuko. It’s okay. We’re clear.”

Viktor smiled.

“I really am out of practice. It’s been two years since I set foot on the ice. Five since I competed. But I never forgot this routine.”

And with that, he moved to the center of the rink. He took up a vaguely familiar position. Legs crossed, head bowed, hands held delicately by his sides.

Viktor’s head rose, a heartbreaking expression breaking across his face. Yuuri’s breath froze in his throat as Viktor folded his body into movements that were suddenly a lot more familiar.

_Stammi Vicino._

Stay Close to Me – Viktor’s free skate from his penultimate season.

Yuuri had watched it more times than he could count. Its YouTube page was the first bookmark in his Viktor folder. It wasn’t his favorite, not that Yuuri had a clear favorite, but there was something about his routine that had haunted Yuuri from the moment he first watched it, something that had prompted him to see it again and again in a vain attempt to figure out what it was that tugged at him.

He never had.

But now, watching Viktor in the flesh glide through the very same motions, Yuuri felt like he was perched on the edge of an epiphany.

There was a marked difference in this routine. There were no jumps, not even singles. Yuuri didn’t register their absence except at the very back of his mind. Viktor compensated beautifully with long, sweeping choreography, and Yuuri could do nothing but hungrily drink in the sight of him.

Viktor was halfway through the routine, sweating and breathing hard, when Yuuri caught it.

That which had haunted him, that which was different now; Yuuri could see it.

Viktor had been calling out. The man in the videos, dressed like a prince and wielding pain like a weapon, had been magnificent, a bona fide work of art from the desolate curve of his lips to the longing etched in each reaching fingertip. A stunning performance.

But only that. A performance.

This wasn’t a performance. This was Viktor, raw and real, singing to Yuuri with eyes and lips and limbs.

His heart fluttered in his chest, throbbing in time to the music that wasn’t there but could still be heard. He ached, sweet and stinging, as Viktor danced around the rink, each and every twitch of his body imbued with a meaning that Yuuri couldn’t name but could feel down to the marrow of his bones.

Viktor slowed to a stop, deftly twisting into a delicate pose, and Yuuri felt the breath he’d been holding burst out of him, shuddering explosively.

Panting, dripping, Viktor relaxed, eyes zeroing in on Yuuri. His expression was split open and vulnerable, calling out to Yuuri better than words ever could. His hands twitched, reaching out, and Yuuri knew there was no other place for him but the spaces where he could tuck into Viktor’s body.

The world was a blur as he slammed into Viktor, the force of it sending them spinning, barely controlled. They didn’t crash by some miracle, but Yuuri could feel himself falling impossibly deeper as he met wide blue eyes that held the whole world in them.

“Vitya,” he whispered, fervent, an eternity compressed in that one word.

“Yuuri.”

Silence descended, too sacred to be broken. He didn’t know which of them moved first, but in the soft heat of Viktor’s mouth against kiss, it didn’t matter.

It was a long time before either of them could pull away.

Viktor’s breathing had eased somewhat, but it was still labored. Yuuri wasn’t surprised. Even without jumps, a whole routine was more exertion than anything Viktor had engaged in recently. Yoga and the occasional run couldn’t compare after all. And maybe there was another element to it, something less physical.

“That was abysmal,” Viktor said, laughing a little. “Yakov would have died on the spot if he’d seen that.”

“No, no, it was beautiful,” Yuuri countered. Viktor opened his mouth to reject that, but Yuuri was insistent, pressing a thumb to Viktor’s lips. He was no skater, but this he _knew_. “Listen, Vitya, listen.”

“I am,” Viktor answered, smiling.

“You were beautiful. I could feel it.” He took Viktor’s hand and pressed it to his chest. “Deep in here.”

“Oh,” Viktor breathed, quiet and wondering.

Slowly, almost absently, Viktor’s hand curled into a fist, still resting on Yuuri’s chest. There was a gentleness to the motion, as if he was squeezing Yuuri’s heart in his hand.

He might as well have been. Yuuri could feel it in him. An ache, throbbing, pulsing.

“I hoped you would,” Viktor confessed, gaze flicking back up to meet Yuuri’s. “I did too. It’s my first time.”

“What?”

Viktor huffed, a sound halfway between amusement and exhaustion.

“Let me guess. You know this routine.”

“ _Stammi Vicino_. Stay Close to Me.”

“ _Non Te Ne Andare_. Don’t Ever Leave.”

“I won’t,” Yuuri said instinctively.

“I know,” Viktor whispered. He bowed his head, resting his forehead against Yuuri’s. When he pulled back, there were tears clinging to his lashes. “I know.”

Yuuri raised his hand and wiped away the tears. More followed. But Viktor was smiling, small but sincere.

“This one was important to me. Or so I thought. I suppose you could say it was a cry for help, though I didn’t think of it quite like that back then. I didn’t expect anyone to answer anyway. I only wanted to scream this plea the only way I knew how.”

“Through your skating.”

“Yes. I was lonely. I had no inspiration. I was losing hope. And well, the way I was then, I thought I could make a routine out of it. Skate it out. Commissioned a song and a costume to match. Practiced until my heart ached. But it was never right. And it wasn’t until the Grand Prix that I realized why.”

Viktor paused, swallowing thickly. Yuuri held his face gently and waited.

“It wasn’t real,” Viktor finally said, unwittingly echoing Yuuri’s thoughts from before. “I might as well have been acting out a stranger’s story for all the passion I felt. But people – the fans, the judges – all of them were fooled. I read articles upon articles praising the _emotional impact_ of the routine. And there I was, a spectator watching my body tell a story that should have been mine. I felt like a joke.”

_Oh, Vitya._

Yuuri kept silent, only leaning closer to Viktor, offering what comfort he could. But despite the tears in his eyes and voice, Viktor didn’t seem as distressed as he should have been. His mouth, now and then, quirked into a sweet smile.

“I gave up after that. The next season was just stories. Like Eros, a whirlwind of passion I wanted but knew I couldn’t have. Then that was tiring too. So I stopped.”

“You stopped before you broke,” Yuuri told him gently. “Brave Viktor.”

Viktor’s eyes widened, and then he flushed adorably.

“I wasn’t. I really wasn’t. And I broke anyway. But thank you.”

Then Viktor was kissing him again, wet mouth brushing gently against Yuuri’s. Neither of them tried to deepen the kiss, content with the soothing contact.

“This was real,” Yuuri said when they parted.

Viktor’s answering smile was infinitely tender.

“Yes. Because of you.”

“Me?”

“Of course. It was different, Yuuri, because I wasn’t calling out. I was celebrating a call that had already been answered.”

 

* * *

 

An hour later, that was how Yuuko found them; pressed close at the center of the rink, arms around each mother, mouths close as they whispered sweet nothings and everythings. Viktor’s tears had dried, and his smile had grown heart-shaped. Yuuri traced the edges of it, helplessly, hopelessly in love.

It was right where he wanted to be.

The soft clearing of a throat still made him leap back, a snarl caught and swallowed before it could make itself heard.

Yuuko was rinkside, carefully looking anywhere but at them. She was smiling and blushing slightly.

Viktor did nothing of the sort, only grinned widely at her before remembering himself and turning away. To be fair, Yuuri wasn’t feeling the least bit bashful either, but he at least made an effort, bowing to Yuuko and apologizing in a tone that might have passed for sincere.

Or maybe not, if the twinkle in Yuuko’s eyes was any indication.

“It’s closing time,” she told them. “A bit past it actually. I kept waiting for you to come out.”

“We, um, lost track of time.”

“Yes. I can see that.”

Yuuko looked she was trying very hard not to laugh at him.

She then turned around and marched back to the front, leaving Yuuri to ignore Viktor’s snickers as they left the ice and took off their skates.

“Hush, you,” Yuuri said out of the corner of his mouth, elbowing Viktor gently.

Predictably, it had no effect.

“Will you be around a while?” Yuuko asked when they joined her.

“Yes. Not as long as last time. But yes.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Yuuri-san,” Yuuko told him. She actually sounded like she meant it. “Come around once in a while.”

That was doubtful given that Viktor would likely be in no state to be in human company for some months at least. But Yuuri nodded, smiling.

“We will. Goodbye, Yuuko-san.”

“Goodbye! You too, Okukawa-san.”

Viktor was standing close to Yuuri. He felt him freeze, then forcibly relax with a deep, controlled breath.

“Thank you, Nishigori-san,” Viktor said, voice deeper than it normally was, probably deliberately.

Yuuko didn’t seem to find anything amiss. At least not until she turned her attention more wholly to Viktor.

Then, her eyes widened.

Yuuri’s fingers dug into his palms. He could feel his body tense to spring.

But Yuuko only shook her head after a pause, giving them an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, I just thought… It’s nothing. See you around!”

“Yes,” Yuuri managed to respond. He even sounded normal. “See you.”

It was only once they were outside that they relaxed.

“For a second there, I thought…”

“Yeah,” Yuuri sighed, clutching Viktor’s hand tight. “Me too.”

“The most nerve-wracking part of our date is over. Now onto got springs and good food.”

Yuuri snorted but followed Viktor. He was surprised that Viktor remembered the way to Yu-topia after all this time. After a few minutes, he was more amused, watching Viktor smile brightly at the fork in the road as if he could charm the asphalt into telling him the way.

“Well?” Yuuri asked, unable to help himself. “Lead on, my love.”

“Yuuuuuri!”

“What?”

“Don’t be mean. And don’t be mean while calling me something so sweet.”

“You like it.”

Viktor’s response was the blush he’d failed to sport back when Yuuko had walked in on them.

Yuuri took pity on him and took Viktor by the arm to guide him in the right direction, though not before stealing a kiss that made his lips tingle and yearn for more.

Viktor giggled and linked their arms together, walking beside Yuuri with a smile to put the stars to shame.

“Hey, Yuuri?”

“Hm?”

“I’m happy,” he confessed like a secret.

Yuuri stumbled, suddenly feeling too large to be contained within his skin.

“Me too,” he whispered back, voice hushed. “I’m happy too.”

Viktor beamed at him, and Yuuri beamed back.

They walked at a leisurely pace, mostly silent and enjoying the company. They were almost at Yu-topia when Viktor spoke again.

“I know we planned it this way, but it’s odd how similar this to our first date.”

“Technically, we didn’t go skating on our first date.”

Viktor heaved a put-upon sigh, shooting Yuuri a look that asked without words if the romance in his soul had shriveled up and died. Viktor didn’t know Yuuri had no romance in his soul. He’d somehow still kept that secret. He hoped they could make a few decades before he was exposed.

“This was nothing like the last time we skated anyway. I can’t believe I did a routine.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Not yet. My knees ache a bit, but the hot springs will help with that. And well, most of the pain would be felt tomorrow morning but, well…”

Viktor would be dead tomorrow morning.

“Reckless man,” Yuuri admonished, not eager to talk about the very immediate future out here in the open.

“It’s your fault!” Viktor shot back, laughing. “You did a _flip_ , Yuuri. Wait, do you know any other jumps?”

“Hah. No. I only practiced this for you.”

“But who taught you?”

“…Yuri.”

Viktor made a strangled little sound that had Yuuri concerned, but he kept walking placidly, even keeping his smile.

“Wow. Okay. I’m not as surprised as I should be for some reason.”

There wasn’t anything he could say to that. He kept an eye on Viktor though, knowing all too well that Yuri Plisetsky was a sore topic for him.

“I’ll teach you,” Viktor told him once they were practically at the onsen’s entrance. “I’m curious to see what you can do.”

“I’d like that,” Yuuri said carefully. “It’ll gave to wait, but, yeah. That’ll be fun.”

Viktor nodded to himself, decision made. It was cute, even if Yuuri was kind of certain that there was something he was missing here.

Ah, well. Viktor seemed calm and happy, and that was enough.

“I can’t wait for a nice, long soak,” Viktor said, tugging Yuuri into Yu-topia.

He followed gladly.

Each moment that passed brought the night closer to its end and something irreversible.

Yuuri was terrified and excited.

 

* * *

 

Yu-topia was as cozy as ever. Yuuri had been recognized and warmly welcomed by both of the owners. Viktor too, though his new appearance earned him a few seconds of squinting from Rei. There wasn’t any fuss though.

They made the best of the hot spring, and Viktor ate heartily, falling upon the katsudon with a passion that had both Rei and Chiyoko grinning widely.

By the time they left, it was nearing ten and the onsen had only a couple of patrons left. Viktor seemed halfway into a food coma and leaned heavily on Yuuri, patting the slight bulge of his belly now and then with a happy sigh.

“I’m going to miss food,” he said a little mournfully once they were outside and alone.

“Does it make it better or worse if I say that you’ll eventually forget?”

Viktor seemed to consider that for a few minutes.

“I’m not sure? Better, I think. It’s easier if I don’t know what I’m missing. Will I really forget though?”

“Not anytime soon. But after a long time? Yeah.”

Viktor hummed but said nothing more. His expression, when Yuuri glanced at it, was pensive.

He felt that old prickle of nervousness return.

It wasn’t long before they were at the beach. The moon was bright in the cloudless sky, coloring the seascape in cool, dark tones. It was a familiar sight despite their long absence. Yuuri would hesitate to call it home. No place was home to him, not anymore. But he couldn’t deny that there was something about this place was comforting.

A second later, Viktor echoed the thought.

“I love this place.”

He stepped away from Yuuri and walked over to the ocean, stopping only once the waves were lapping at his feet. Yuuri silently watched his silhouette for a moment before moving to join him.

In his mind, he saw another April night like this. He’d done the same then; stood and watched the outline of a human sprawled on the sand, right up to the point he’d vanished into the waves.

“You almost died here.”

He hadn’t meant to say that so bluntly, but it slipped out, quiet and questioning the love Viktor had proclaimed.

“I did,” Viktor agreed. “And I was reborn here. After tonight, I’ll be reborn once again.”

Viktor’s tone was casual, unburdened by worries or doubts. It was reassuring, yet not.

Yuuri braced himself, stepped in front of Viktor, and looked deep into shadowed eyes as he asked a question that had been voiced in all possible variations these past few months and yet had never been as important as it was now.

“Vitya, are you sure?”

It was a simple query. Viktor’s answer was equally simple.

“Yes.”

Yuuri released a shuddering breath. Then there were warm hands on his face, fingers pressing into his cheeks with tender care.

“I’ve thought long and hard about this, my Yuuri. And my answer is yes. I won’t pretend I’m not unaffected. A part of me worries, fears.”

“You hide it well.”

“It’s more that those worries and fears pale when faced with my faith in you. In us.”

Yuuri nodded, beyond words, and let himself lean on Viktor for a while, resting his face on his chest.

He had faith too. But he was just as certain that things would change tonight. Viktor would change tonight. Yuuri knew all too well that the creature who would wake tomorrow with Yuuri’s blood in his veins wouldn’t be the same Viktor who’s slip to death in his arms.

But he would be Viktor. Fundamentally the same man, but wiped of his humanity and forged anew.

That was fine. He would still love Viktor, simply because he was Viktor. The loss of the things he’d loved, he’d mourn. The new parts of him he’d discover, he’d learn to love. And Viktor had promised to love Yuuri too, in death and beyond.

They’d talked about all this, over and over until their tongues were numb.

It was time to take a leap of faith.

“Hey, you want to know what’s funny?” Viktor asked, cutting into Yuuri’s thoughts.

“Tell me,” he murmured.

“Back in Detroit, when I was most undecided about you turning me, one thing I kept coming back to was that I didn’t know if I’d be able to give up the bite. You have no idea how glad I was when you told me vampires could also feel it.”

Yuuri froze.

He pulled back from Viktor. Slowly, eloquently, he asked, “Are you shitting me right now?”

Viktor’s grin was utterly unapologetic.

“Of course you’re not. Why am I even surprised?” Viktor was snickering now, hand pressed to his mouth and eyes crinkled. “You know we’d have had to stop if you’d remained human, right?”

Predictably, that sobered him up.

“I know,” Viktor, for lack of a better word, _whined_. “It’s terrible. It didn’t seem too bad when you told me, but then the thing in India happened. I was suffering, Yuuri!”

What had happened in Hyderabad still had Yuuri clenching his teeth in residual terror. That had been so, so close to being an unsalvageable disaster. Sometimes, he marveled at how quickly Viktor had shaken it off. Other times, it made perfect sense that Viktor would pay no heed to how close he’d been to death.

“I warned you it was addictive,” Yuuri said instead, reaching in to tug at a stray strand of Viktor’s hair. “Not that you ever cared.”

Viktor just shrugged.

“It was worth it. Shouldn’t you know?”

“Actually, no. I’ve never been bitten before. Well, there was Minako, but I was unconscious for that.”

Viktor’s eyes widened, and he looked shocked that he’d never known this. Come to think of it, it was odd that they’d never talked of this before. Yuuri only remembered describing the bite’s effect to Viktor from what he’d heard from other vampires and personally observed in his prey. He had had a few vampire lovers, but he hadn’t trusted any of them enough to bare his neck to them.

He would trust Viktor.

“Could I be your first then?” Viktor asked, a little breathless as he proved yet again that he and Yuuri were meant for each other.

“Yes,” Yuuri told him, shivering lightly as he pictured it. “I would love that.”

Viktor smiled, slow and sly.

“Let’s go home, Yuuri.”

 

* * *

 

Home apparently meant _bed_.

At least that’s where Viktor led him with single-minded intensity, not even bothering to turn on the lights. Yuuri took care not to let either of them bump into things. Viktor wasn’t the only one who was eager.

Yuuri was pushed to the bed with little ceremony, Viktor crawling into his lap soon after. He expected to be caught in a kiss, but Viktor just took him by the shoulders and stared long and hard.

“Vitya?”

“I love you, Katsuki Yuuri.”

Those words had long since lost their novelty, and they were better for it. Now it was comfort, joy, and safety – a promise even, one that Viktor fulfilled with each breath that he drew, one that Yuuri tried to reciprocate with each sluggish beat of his heart.

“And I you, Viktor Nikiforov. I always will.”

Viktor sighed, closing his eyes.

When he opened them, they were blazing.

“Make love to me.”

Yuuri tipped them sideways, Viktor flowing from his arms and on to the bed, writhing up the sheets to splay himself in the middle, the arch of his eyebrows a command and invitation both. Yuuri followed, gladly, sinking into Viktor’s warmth. He’d miss that. But it would be worth it.

“What would you like?” he asked, the question whispered against the sharp curve of Viktor’s chin.

“Fuck me,” came the prompt answer, “I want you in me when you kill me.”

That brought Yuuri up short, his mind blanking for a moment before sheer, maddening arousal flooded his veins.

“Gods. _Vitya_.”

Viktor’s expression was smug. Yuuri wanted to bite it off his face.

“I’ve always wanted that,” Viktor told him, voice lowered as if in confession. “I wanted to die while you fucked me, with your teeth in me.”

A strangled sound rang in the room. It took Yuuri a moment to grasp that he’d made it.

“That–that’s–” he floundered. “How do you say that so _casually_?”

It wasn’t criticism. Sure, Viktor would one day find a way to stop Yuuri’s half-dead heart in his chest, but gods, he wouldn’t complain. Under him, Viktor quirked a small, knowing smile that said he knew this quite well.

“Don’t you know how much I want to belong to you, Yuuri? At the beginning, I thought that might change, that the desire might dampen. No. It only grew. I want to be yours. All yours, just yours. I want it so bad.”

“You don’t need to die to belong to me,” Yuuri returned, just as fervent. “You’re already mine, you’ll always be mine. In life and death and everything in between. My Vitya.”

Viktor shuddered, lips parting in a soft exhale.

Then he surged up, arms locking around Yuuri’s neck as he kissed him, mouth hot and wet against his. Yuuri opened up, moaning deep in his throat as Viktor’s tongue slid against his, on the sweet side of needy.

Viktor was the one to break the kiss, rolling out from under Yuuri and making short work off his clothes. Yuuri did the same, not clearly not fast enough because Viktor’s hands were on his belt before he could get to it, unbuckling it and pulling it off along with his pants. It left him on his back on the mattress, Viktor perched by his hips. Not for long though. Viktor only paused to lovingly run his hand up Yuuri’s calf before draping himself over him, their mouths meeting again, rougher this time.

Viktor worried at Yuuri’s canines with his tongue, stroking along them just right to get them long and sharp. It was ridiculous how easily this man could wreck Yuuri, but it was delightful, reassuring, everything Yuuri had never known to hope for but had needed anyway.

Flavor burst across his tongue as his fangs tore into Viktor’s lips; just a few drops, practically routine by now, not that it stopped his hunger from rearing its head, its gaping maw always desperate for more. Yuuri swallowed, a stifled groan escaping him, and made to lick at the wounds, stealing another taste even as he closed the cuts.

But Viktor pulled away, rocking back on his knees. His lips and chin were wet with blood, bright and red and beautiful.

Yuuri’s cock throbbed.

“Watch,” Viktor husked, winking, and then he was moving down the bed and between Yuuri’s legs, spreading them wide.

Yuuri fished his hands on the sheets so that they wouldn’t reach out and reel Viktor in.

Viktor loosely wrapped a hand around the base of Yuuri’s cock and, in one smooth motion, swallowed the rest.

“ _God_.”

It was a hoarse whisper, ripped out of him by the impossible sight of Viktor with his lips stretched tight around Yuuri’s cock. His cuts bled angrily, dripping blood on to Viktor’s knuckles and, when he removed them, Yuuri’s cock. It must hurt, the stretch and the pressure, but Viktor only took in another inch and moaned sweet and low.

Yuuri keened.

He wanted to take his eyes off, the view too much for his wavering control, but couldn’t. Viktor started bobbing his head, panting through his nose as he took Yuuri deeper and deeper, the tip of him was being squeezed tight by Viktor’s throat. It convulsed, a broken groan fluttering with it, and this time, Yuuri had to screw his eyes shut and throw his head back, mouth falling open in a wanton shout of _Vitya!_

Fuck his stamina, he wouldn’t last like this, with Viktor so–

Viktor pulled off without warning, and Yuuri helplessly bucked his hips, trying to follow. Harsh panting filled the air, and Yuuri laboriously lifted his head to find Viktor with his hands braced on Yuuri’s thighs and head bowed, breathing hard. He raised his head, and his face split in a bloody smirk.

Yuuri was moving before he could pause to think it through.

Viktor’s back slammed to the mattress, his gasp barely audible. Yuuri had his hands around his throat, not squeezing, just holding, letting Viktor feel the cool pressure of it. He liked it, Yuuri knew how well he liked it, and it showed in the way Viktor’s eyes slid half-closed. His mouth was parted, breaths shallow and shuddering. Blood trickled down his chin, painting his skin beautifully.

Yuuri leaned down and licked it up, not wasting e single drop.

Viktor gave a pretty little whine when Yuuri tongued the cuts but didn’t so much as twitch a muscle. He was pliant, sweet almost, so unlike the scheming little minx who’d blown Yuuri’s dick and mind a mere minute ago.

“Good boy,” Yuuri growled. Viktor made a noise that sounded like it’d been punched out of him. “I thought we might take his slow, make it last. You have other ideas, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Fuck me,” Viktor said, voice shredded. “Just fuck me.”

And Yuuri did, coaxing Viktor open with two slick fingers, fangs digging into his own lip as each stroke of his prostate had Viktor arching his back and whimpering, every taut inch of his body begging Yuuri to just push in and take him.

He did, eventually, pressing into Viktor slow and steady, gentle even as Viktor cursed at him to go _faster, fuck, Yuuri!_

“Ssh,” he whispered, mouthing at Viktor’s bent knee. “There’s no hurry, Vitya.”

“I’m _dying_ ,” Viktor replied in perfect seriousness.

His eyes were lust-dark, his mouth gnawed red, his skin flushed pink. Bruises and bite marks were scattered across every inch of him, a sight Yuuri had grown used to years ago. He adored it.

Soon, so much of this would be gone. Viktor’s warmth, his blushing and bruising skin, his racing heartbeat, the unique taste of his blood – all gone.

His humanity too.

Yuuri stretched over Viktor, pushing deeper as he did, and brushed a kiss on that parted, panting mouth.

“Let’s savor this,” he murmured, nuzzling Viktor. “It won’t be like this again.”

Viktor sighed and kissed Yuuri, nibbling at his lips a little.

“It’ll still be us, _lapushka_.”

“I know, I know. But it will be different. Feel this. Feel me like this. And let me feel you.”

Viktor trembled, clenching around Yuuri.

“I don’t want regrets, Yuuri.”

“Me neither, love. But this isn’t regret. This is us, as we are, one last time.”

“Please. Yes. Yes.”

He made love to Viktor, his thrusts slow and measured, forcing his eyes to stay open and on Viktor who returned the favor, his beautiful blues heavy with need and shining with love. Yuuri kissed his brow, his lids, his cheeks, his lips, and trailed his mouth smoothly down his neck.

“I adore you,” he professed to the rapid beat of Viktor’s pulse.

And he bit.

For once, it wasn’t the taste that dominated his mind. It was there, and he was aware as he always would be of the stunning explosion of Viktor’s blood inside him, but his focus was on Viktor writhing against him, crying out and clawing with blunt nails as his body surrendered to the pleasure. Liquid heat splashed between them, the sensation of it driving Yuuri to push in deep and quiver with his own climax, made all the more sweeter by the blood still sliding down his throat.

Then, he stopped and pulled away. He didn’t close the wounds, only blocked the bleeding with his hand.

“Why’d you stop?” Viktor asked. He looked mostly out of it, wrung out from the combined pleasure of his orgasm and Yuuri’s bite.

“Wanted to see you.”

Viktor smiled faintly. He lifted a hand with obvious effort and laid it on Yuuri’s cheek weakly.

“My sweet Yuuri. It’s okay. I’ll wake up. And I don’t know how much of me will remain in him, but I know I’ll be yours.”

“How?” Yuuri forced himself to ask. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I’m Viktor, you’re Yuuri, and this is the way it will be.”

Yuuri laughed, mirthless, and hid his face in Viktor’s palm for one, blissful moment. His eyes ached with tears that he couldn’t shed.

“You’ll be you. Changed, yes, but you. And I’ll love you through it all. I promise.”

The look in Viktor’s eyes said he’d never doubted that at all. He tilted his neck, a wordless demand that Yuuri complied with, though not before kissing the center of Viktor’s palm.

Viktor’s blood was as hot on his tongue was his body was around Yuuri’s cock, and he drank deep, this time giving himself over to the ecstasy of feeding.

It had been years and years since he’d drained a human.

He sucked harder, wanting, needing, and didn’t stop even when Viktor’s heart raced too fast and then grew too slow.

Viktor squirmed all the while, making helpless little noises that petered out as his heartbeat slowed.

Finally, it stilled.

Yuuri kept drinking.

He didn’t lose himself. He didn’t forget Viktor.

He stopped.

Viktor was motionless, moving unnervingly like a limp doll when Yuuri pulled out of him. His eyes were closed, but Yuuri knew that if he were to open them, he’d find the pretty blue eyes he’d so loved blank with death.

He didn’t open them.

Instead, he pressed a bloody kiss to still lips. They still retained their warmth. This would be the last time.

“ _Aishiteru yo_ , Vityenka,” he whispered, the words falling on deaf ears.

Then, he brought his wrist to his mouth and tore into the skin.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:** Early on, this chapter makes it obvious that Yuuri will turn Viktor. This involves Viktor temporarily dying. And since this is me, the death scene is a wee bit disturbing - they’re having sex when Yuuri drains Viktor. This is 110% consensual.
> 
> In other news, Viktor’s Bloody Blowjob Special TM was suggested by and is dedicated to [ stillmadaboutpetra.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillmadaboutpetra/pseuds/stillmadaboutpetra) Mad, I fucking adore your mind. And yes, you too.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments keep me going! Please consider dropping a line down below.
> 
> I have a tumblr [that you can find here.](http://voxofthevoid.tumblr.com/) There's also [a tag for Midnight Lover,](https://voxofthevoid.tumblr.com/tagged/fic:+midnight%20lover) where you can find a handful of drabbles and some asks.


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